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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218933">Baby Please Come Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Six2VII/pseuds/Six2VII'>Six2VII</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Fluff and Smut, Christmas Eve, Christmas Smut, M/M, Mental Health Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:47:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Six2VII/pseuds/Six2VII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky gets Scrooged.</p><p>----------<br/>A Christmas Carol (Scrooged) X A Pinch of The Mistletones X Porn (Later Chapters)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I Prefer Mister, Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James stared at the screen in front of him. This couldn’t be right. Productivity was down twenty- five percent, after all the measures he put in place so those lazy yahoos wouldn’t slack off because “it’s the holidays.” What the hell did he have to do to get competent people in here?</p><p>“Rogers, get your ass in here,” James hissed into his intercom. He heard his executive assistant fall out of his chair...again. The first few times it was funny. After the 200th time, it’s just plain sad. Steve scurried into his office with his iPad.</p><p>“Did you send out the memo about office celebrations and holiday schedules?” Barnes said, squinting at his screen. The cameras he had installed in the warehouse were blurry. “And check on the warehouse security cameras.”</p><p>“The memo was sent the week before Thanksgiving as requested, and I will call maintenance to check on the cameras,” Steve grumbled.</p><p>“Send the email again. Productivity has dropped twenty-five percent,” James said, flipping through all the security feeds.</p><p>“Buck-” Steve began. James glowered at him. “I mean James, profits are through the roof. We had the best quarter ever.”</p><p>“Imagine what are profits would look like if everyone was doing their fucking job. Order those tilted toilet seats as well,” Barnes said, glancing up at his assistant. Roger’s jaw was tight. James knew that look. You didn’t grow up with a guy without knowing what they were thinking. “You have something to say?”</p><p>“I just think that after giving you the most profitable year on record your employees earned a little break for the holidays and maybe some appreciation. Not some crapper that shows you don’t trust them,” Steve huffed.</p><p>“That’s why I’m the owner and CEO of the fastest growing company in the world, and you're the assistant,” Barnes returned.</p><p>James ignored the eye roll. He didn’t understand what the attitude was about. James hired Steve with no experience. The guy used to be his best friend. Now he was some socialist art freak. Admittedly, his art was pretty good, but Steve never had the drive. He never knew how to sell himself with dames, teachers, or jobs. James knew he should have talked Steve out of going to Brown, but it’s too late now.  </p><p>He’s good at his job when he’s not shooting his mouth off. James tried to take him under his wing, but Steve rather slack off with Jones, Juniper, and Dugan. James looked over the man - wrinkled khakis, red eyes, paint stained hands. Steve was not taking his position seriously. He was probably still high.</p><p>Steve looked down at his iPad to escape his boss’s scrutiny. “You want the run through now or...” </p><p>“Might as well,” James answered, picking up the Wall Street Journal.</p><p>“Becca called. She wants to invite you to her Christmas party tonight,” Steve said, reading through the messages from the switchboard. He only brought up the ones he knew Barnes would care about or at least want to be informed of. </p><p>“Pass. Tell her I’m wooing a new client. You brought her and the boyfriend a gift?” Barnes said, looking up from an article on T’Challa T’Chakason and his innovative use of vibranium.</p><p>“Yeah, I got her one of those cute-” Steve attempted to describe, smiling.</p><p>“That’s nice. You sent Stark the scotch for his wedding?” Barnes asked, reading about Sinclair and how they have completed their domination of rural television and radio stations. Fascists always wanted to control the message.</p><p>“Yes,” Steve said. </p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“Dugan says he’ll be ready for Stage 4 by the end of the week. Juniper has approved all leave for the warehouse. I have marked the ‘repeat offenders,’” Steve sighed. Barnes ignored him. “And noted any discrepancies or suspected time theft. Natasha has hired an assistant for Arwan and background checks out.” </p><p>“She trusts this person?” James asked, turning the page.</p><p>“She said with her life,” Steve informed.</p><p>“Have you met them?”</p><p>“Briefly, Rhodey was one of her references.”</p><p>“Rhodey?” Barnes said, looking up from his paper. “What’s the name?”</p><p>“Danvers. Ex Air Force.”</p><p>“Mm. Where are we at with digital inventory?”</p><p>“Should be done by the end of January,” Steve responded.</p><p>“January?” Barnes asked.</p><p>“Do you want your quarterlies first or your paper clip database?” Steve snarked.</p><p>“Of course, quarterlies. I suppose I could forgo inventory, and let everyone walk away with all my supplies. Dugan, take the company van to Vegas. Arwan, feel free to use your company iPad for your OnlyFans page. Steve, charge whatever you want on the company credit card.”</p><p>“You won’t let me use the company credit card anymore,” Steve pointed out, blinking.</p><p>“And, you wonder why?” James returned. He sent his assistant to get refreshments for an impromptu meeting with clients one time. Steve came back with a smorgasbord. The client enjoyed it, and signed with the company, so James let it go. Two weeks later, Cratchit called him from accounting and told him the credit card bill had doubled in the year since Steve had been working there. His assistant was a softy. He sent flowers to funerals, birthday cards, and he even tried to institute a monthly birthday cake for employees. James put a stop to all that nonsense. He paid these people enough to go buy their own damn cake.</p><p>“Your 10:30 is here. I’m going to get your lunch. I’ll send her in,” Steve said, backing out of the door. </p><p>“I don’t have a 10:30,” James said, pulling up his calendar. He stared at the slot. That wasn’t there when he checked this morning. “Who the hell is Claire Temple?”</p><p>“Hi, that would be me,” A tall woman said in his doorway. She had on a cardigan and a long flowy skirt. She looked like a hippie.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I must have overlooked the meeting on my calendar. Please have a seat,” James said, Googling the woman’s name. He glanced up at her, comparing her to a picture of a redhead. The stranger in his office was a knockout; Claire Temple from Baton Rouge was decidedly not. He got no hits on Ms. Temple, not even a Facebook page.</p><p>“I promise Sergeant Barnes, I won’t keep you long,” She said, pulling out a pamphlet.</p><p><em>Maybe she was a supplier, </em>he thought. “It’s Mister. I prefer mister, now,” Barnes said, turning his full attention to her. She had done her homework. He was curious. He usually left out his military experience in interviews. He wanted to forget that part of his life.</p><p>“My mistake,” She said, smiling. </p><p>“It’s fine,” James smiled back. </p><p>“I work with an organization called Night Nurse,” Ms. Temple started.</p><p>“I’ve heard of it,” Barnes said, realizing what this was. He sat back in his seat and sighed. He was going to have to hire a new assistant. </p><p>Night Nurse was a clinic that was open 24 hours a day to veterans in need. A lot of homeless vets and veterans struggling with drug abuse and mental issues used their services. Whether it was a Band-Aid, a suture, a shot of naloxone, a sandwich, or a warm place to sit in brutal weather, Night Nurse’s doors were open. He was pretty sure they were already on his annual charity list, which meant they got a check for $500 like the other 49 organizations on the roster. She was here to ask for more money.</p><p>“Being a veteran-” Claire continued.</p><p>“Let me stop you right there. I have maxed out my charitable donations budget for the year, and even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be inclined to give to a woman who seeks to use my disability against me.”</p><p>“I meant no offense. I just thought you could relate to our clients,” Claire said.</p><p>“Relate to people who sit around and throw pity parties for themselves instead of hitting the bricks and making something happen,” James responded.</p><p>“You must realize it’s hard for everyone, but there are different circumstances and barriers for different people.”</p><p>“I grew up with nothing. My dad ran out on my mom when I was six. She was eight months pregnant with my sister. My Mom would rather crawl into a bottle than raise her two kids. I joined the army to feed my kid sister and to put a roof over her head. My arm got blown off four months into my third tour. I had every reason to quit, to give up, but I didn’t. I took every penny the army gave me and my brains, and I built this business. I put my kid sister through college. She’s an engineer; so, spare me the sob stories. People are hungry? Not hungry enough.”</p><p>“Hmm, well,” Claire uttered. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Barnes,” The woman said, rising, and making for the door.</p><p>“Tell you what, next year I’ll bump you guys up to $600 a year,” Barnes offered, already pulling up the specs for the new product line.</p><p>Claire nodded and moved towards the door. She stopped and turned, “You were officially a billionaire as of August, weren’t you?”</p><p>Barnes huffed. Yes, yes, he was because he knew when and where to spend his money. He didn’t like what she was trying to get at, but he overlooked it because she was trying to do her job. And he did know what it was like to be in that situation, “Do you want the extra hundred bucks or not?” Barnes said, going back to his paper.</p><p>“Yes,” Claire said. Barnes watched her school her features with some difficulty. He smirked up at her. She was the one begging, not him. “Again, thank you for your time.”</p><p>“Thank Steve. He might need your services real soon.” </p><p>-o0o-</p><p>Barnes was trying to tweak next month’s projections when Steve walked in. “James, I’m heading out.” Steve said, putting on a tattered coat and scarf. </p><p>“Heading out? It’s only-” James looked at his watch. It was eight o’clock. When did it get dark?</p><p>“I thought I told you I wanted to finish the projections before the holiday.” Barnes said, going back to his graph.</p><p>Steve sighed, “Buck, it’s Christmas Eve.”</p><p>“And?” James returned.</p><p>“And some of us have lives,” Steve said.</p><p>“Yeah?” James laughed. “You going to go down to Luke’s and moon over Peggy, Misty, and Angie all night?”</p><p>“Yeah, I am. Gabe, Dum Dum, Junior, and me will be there for a while. You could come too. I know your Mr. Big shot now, but we miss you,” Steve tried.</p><p>“Nah, I got work to do,” Barnes said, inputting data.</p><p>“Suit yourself. I finished the projections half an hour ago,” Steve said, walking over to the desk and plopping down a gift. </p><p>“What’s this?” James asked, looking over his reading glasses.</p><p>“Your Christmas gift, ranger cookies,” Steve assuaged.</p><p>James paused, looking at the box. Someone was bold. It didn’t matter. He had work to do. “Are they poisoned?” Barnes said, going back to his numbers.</p><p>“Damn, I wish I would have thought of that, but, no. I made a batch for my Ma. It reminded me-” Steve smiled, his gaze travelling back in time. “Anyway, they’re your favorite, so I made you some too.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Barnes said, touched. They used to be his favorite. Sometimes he wished he could go back, but then he would remember all the pain, stress, and fear. He wanted nothing to do with that life. “Maybe for my gift, you’ll actually tell Peggy how you feel.”</p><p>“It’s been years, and she’s a partner at the law firm now, and I’m your secretary,” Steve said.</p><p>“You're my executive assistant and the hub of a Fortune 200 company. You have got to sell yourself better,” Barnes said, switching screens when he heard a ping. He started typing a quick reply email to a client. Steve could tell the moment had passed, and his best friend had disappeared back to where James kept him locked up. </p><p>“Well, it’s moot, you already brought me a really nice brush set and a new easel,” Steve said, zipping his coat and walking out of the room.</p><p>Barnes looked up at his vacant office, “That sounds like it cost more than $100 bucks you little shit.” He heard the elevator door close. “Asshole,” James said to himself, finishing his email.  </p><p>Barnes got up and closed his office door. He loosened his tie and slipped out of his loafers. He grabbed the QED report and a scotch and went and plopped on the couch. He was making progress, but as the minutes ticked on, lines began to blur. He had to reread a few sentences to make sense of them, and then there was just quiet- until, there wasn’t.</p><p>James woke up with a start. He looked around. He was still at the office. The condensation from his tumbler was leaving a horrific stain on his hand-carved wooden coffee table. He placed the glass on top of the QED report that had fallen from the couch. James yawned and stretched. He stopped when he heard a strange noise out in the lobby. James went to the door. Arwan was just probably making his rounds, but when Barnes opened his door, he could see Arwan in his office on Steve’s security feed. There it was again. It was an eerie sound- a jangling followed by bone-chilling scrape. <em> Okay Barnes, it may be time to stop dodging the therapist. </em> The noise cut across him again.</p><p>“Hello? Lisa is that you?” James called. He saw Lisa come out of the women’s bathroom on the third floor with a mop and bucket on one of the ten screens. “Maybe Steve is right. I need to call it a night,” He said, walking back into his office. He froze when he saw Howard Stark sitting at his desk. Howard Stark had been dead for five years now. “That asshole put some pot in those fucking cookies.”</p><p>“Not even close, pal,” Stark said.</p><p>“I’m finally having a breakdown?” James asked his delusion.</p><p>“Finally? You’ve been in free-fall for a decade.”</p><p>“You’re not here,” Barnes said, walking over to the couch, and knocking back the watered-down scotch on the table.</p><p>“Oh, I’m here, Buck, and you need to listen to what I have to say.”</p><p>“I pay a lot of money to apparent quacks, and take my medications regularly, so I don’t have to listen to what you got to say.”</p><p>“I’m not your subconscious, kid. I am the ghost of Howard Stark, your old boss.”</p><p>“Ghost? So, you’re haunting me <em> now </em>? It’s been five years.”</p><p>“I’m not haunting you, I’m warning you. It’s time to change your ways.”</p><p>James chuckled. “Change my ways,” Barnes said, smiling. “I don’t know if this is the scotch, my psychosis, or the pot cookies, but Howard Stark would never say I need to change my ways. He taught me everything I know.”</p><p>“I know and look what it got me: dead, alone and forgotten. My kid hates me. My wife is happily remarried, my company-legacy-sold off into pieces. Thank you for that by the way. I was only your mentor.”</p><p>“Exactly, you said business is business," James shrugged.</p><p>“I am rotting in eternal damnation because I thought of myself before others. Heed my advice, Bucky, one last time. You’re going down the wrong the path. You were a good kid. I turned you into a shark.”</p><p> “You made me great,” James defended. His eyes popped open watching chains burst through his Carrara marble floors and snake up Stark’s translucent body.</p><p> “I damned you to hell,” Howard said, trying in vain to fight the twisting metal grow tighter. “Fuck, my time is almost up. If I do one good thing for you, let it be this. You will be visited by three ghosts. Listen to them Bucky. You must change-”</p><p>“This is a dream. I saw a commercial for Scrooged the other night,” James realized. “I just have to pinch myself,” Barnes said, making a show of rolling up his sleeves and gathering skin.</p><p>“At the stroke of midnight, you will be visited by the first ghost,” Howard warbled. The chains were constricting his airways now.</p><p>“I’m pinching myself,” James said in horror. <em> Fuck. I’m not waking up. </em></p><p>“Take heed, change your ways!” Stark sputtered, fading with the rustling of chains. Barnes flinched when the phone rang on his desk. His machine picked up.</p><p>“Bucky, this is Becca. I was just calling to say Merry Christmas. I called the house and you weren’t there. If you haven’t eaten, we still have plenty of food left. Please don’t spend Christmas alone this year. Oh, I have to go. We’re about to play some game. I love you.” The machine beeped.</p><p>Barnes woke up with a start. He let out a relieved sigh. <em> It was a dream. </em> James looked at the box of cookies on the coffee table and got up from the couch and threw them in the trash. He slipped his shoes back on and grabbed his coat. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Ba Humbug</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Ghost Of Christmas Past</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He doesn’t know how Natalia does it, but when he got outside his driver was waiting by the car door. “Clint, I can get my own door,” James said, doing just that. He climbed into his seat, flipping on the screens.</p><p>“I’m aware, but you got thirty-three threatening letters today alone,” Clint said, sliding into the driver seat.</p><p>“I liked it when you weren’t dating one another,” Barnes said, tapping the screen to access the rear cameras. </p><p>“I didn’t,” Clint returned. </p><p>Barnes snorted, looking at the traffic behind his Range Rover. Natasha was behind them like always in her Saturn. She waved. <em> How does she do that? </em> James had done a sweep more than once to make sure she hadn’t tracked or bugged him. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t, and he used to be good at that type of shit.</p><p>“Do you want to drive by Becca’s tonight?” Clint asked, coming up on the street to take them there.</p><p>“Not tonight,” James said. Parties meant guests coming and going, someone might spot him.</p><p>“Chapel Street?” Clint asked. Steve was right. It was Christmas Eve. Most people had somewhere else to be tonight.</p><p>“Just take me home,” Barnes said. He tried to get into the numbers like he usually did, but he found himself staring out of the window. The streets were packed with last minute shoppers. Bars were just starting to get rowdy, and a lot of restaurants were kicking people out since it was a holiday. </p><p>Barnes groaned when they turned on 74th street. Every townhouse was lit up or decked in holiday cheer, thankfully nothing too gaudy. Even the Goldbergs and Fosters had Hanukkah decorations still up. James, if so inclined, could decorate for both Hanukkah and Christmas. He used to. His mom was Jewish. It’s not like she taught them anything about her faith though. Hell, once upon a time, his apartment had a Kinara in it for Kwanzaa. James’s townhouse was the only one on the block without any decoration. Well, that was a lie, Barnes noted, staring up at his front door.</p><p>“Becca, came by this morning,” Clint said, pulling up to the curb. “She filled your fridge and freezer. She brought some of those cauliflower pizzas again.”</p><p>“And how many did you eat?” James asked his driver.</p><p>“You still got like five in there,” Clint informed.</p><p>His sister had also hung a giant wreath with a cherry red bow on his front door. James got out before Clint could come and try to get the door. Natasha was waiting on the stoop, so she could do her final sweep before her and Clint went to do God knows what. “Isn’t this a security breach?” James groused at the redhead.</p><p>“Your sister loves you and is doing everything in her power to stop you from turning into Ebenezer Scrooge,” Natasha informed.</p><p>“Ba humbug,” Barnes joked, pulling the wreath off the door and setting it on the bench in his entry. He jumped when he heard a jangling. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Natasha said, twirling the ring of keys in her hand. </p><p>“I just need some sleep,” James said, walking upstairs. </p><p>He took a long shower, letting the scorching water beam down on his shoulder. It always ached at this time of year. He brushed his teeth, noticing lines were becoming more prominent on his face. He didn’t fear getting old.  He feared running out of time to achieve everything he wanted in life. He still had yet to crack the Fortune 100. He was number 142, five years ago 436. He was coming for them. He used to want for other things, but he was young and foolish, and life was a motherfucker. <em> Shit, Barnes. </em>One weird dream and he had gotten philosophical. He was on the right path. His goals were in his sights. He just needed to get out of his head, breathe, focus, and push through.</p><p>Barnes got into bed. His interior designer said he needed to have a Wyoming King. It was a comfortable bed, but for some reason tonight it felt enormous, like he was going to be swallowed whole. James reached over to his phone and shot a quick email off to Steve to make him an appointment with his therapist. Maybe he had dodged her for too long.</p><p>Despite being shaken Barnes fell into a deep sleep. Christmas crept up on him unawares. The antique grandfather clock he won at auction rang through the house announcing its arrival. James slumbered through 11 tolls, but the twelfth struck with a mighty force that shook his bed. James eye’s popped open. His lights were on. No, his room was lit by a strange glow and covered in glittering snowflakes. </p><p>“This is crossing the line, Becca. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your Christmas-” Barnes said, getting up. He paused mid rant, staring at the older Korean man in blue, warming his hands by his fireplace. James hadn’t built a fire. Barnes narrowed his eyes, studying the not stranger. “Jim, what are you doing here? What the fuck do you have on? When the fuck did you grow a beard?”</p><p>“I am not Jim Morita, James Buchanan Barnes, I have taken this form because it is someone you once respected. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”</p><p>
  <em> Not this shit again. Barnes, you got to get it together. I’m going to make an appointment, and maybe I feel guilty for not giving more to the Night Nurse and skipping Becca’s thing, but once you start giving, people start to expect it. I don’t have anything else to give after putting my all into my business. </em>
</p><p>“I am one of three trying to lead you down a different path. What dreams have you forgotten? What people have you let fall away? Looking to the past can help change your future.”</p><p>“There is nothing but pain and regret back there. I move forward.” James said, getting up and wrenching open his nightstand. </p><p>“Life’s path isn’t a straight line, James Buchanan Barnes, sometimes the winding path is the right one.”</p><p>Barnes ignored the now floating version of his old captain and sifted through the empty bottles of pain medicine to find the one bottle that was completely full. He stared at it for a moment. God, he didn’t want to do this. He undid the cap, and popped a pill in his mouth and swallowed. He opened his Voss to push it down. “You’ll go away in a minute.”</p><p>“I’ll go away quicker if you cooperate,” Santa Jim informed.</p><p>“This is a dream,” Barnes reaffirmed.</p><p>“Then why not let it play out?” The ghost asked with a smirk.</p><p>“I know how this goes. I’ve seen too many versions of this story- Muppets, Flintstones, Mickey, and Diva. I have no desire to see that pathetic version of myself.”</p><p>“That boy, that man is what made you who you are today. Are you not proud of your accomplishments?” Spirit Jim asked, his head tilting just like his old captain.</p><p>“Yes,” Barnes admitted. Jim always had a way of using logic to break through his bullshit.</p><p>“Then you have nothing to fear,” Jim said, holding out his translucent palm. Barnes sighed and took his old friend’s hand. They floated towards the window and then they were out above the street in front of his house. Barnes frowned when he noticed Becca’s wreath was back on the door. He was going to have to hire a new head of security.  </p><p>“Holy fuck, it’s cold out here!” James exclaimed. He was only in pajamas. Poltergeist Jim was in a blue Santa coat. It had fur and all. It also glowed.</p><p>“But, it’s just a dream,” Jim quipped.</p><p>“I don’t remember you being this big of an asshole,” Barnes said as he floated over Manhattan.</p><p>“You don’t remember a lot of things,” Jim said, and suddenly the stars morphed into swirling lines. Wind whipped around them with a roar until they came to a sudden stop. </p><p>“Jesus, you could warn a fella,” James complained, floating to the ground. He straightened his clothes and hair. James looked around and finally realized where he was. The streets were lined with trash. The smell of piss was pungent in the air. Women walked the street in miniskirts and fishnets, despite the temperature, trying to feed their kids and pay their rents. Some men did the same or decided to sell poison. Barnes swallowed looking at the graffiti, not the kind that sold for a million dollars and was revered as social commentary, these tags marked territories. Which group of young men and women, with no or few options, should you be afraid of. James looked up at the crumbling building that allowed cold, rain, roaches, and rats in with little barrier. He looked up at his childhood home. He was so busy staring up at his past that he almost didn’t see the little boy run out of the convenience store and down the block, an attendant on his heels.</p><p>“Stop you little delinquent!” The woman screamed. Barnes stared at his younger self swerving around pedestrians and overflowing trash cans. He had to smirk watching his own moves until he suddenly remembered what happened next. Old Man Fury stepped out of an alley and snatched him up by the collar. </p><p>“Bucky Barnes, what did I tell you about stealing out of my store?”</p><p>“It’s not candy, I swear,” Bucky said, squirming.</p><p>“Give it up,” Fury said, peering at him with one eye. Bucky watched the scene overcome with shame. As Fury went through the bag stuffed with ramen, tuna, Vienna sausages, and one Margie doll. He watched Fury and Maria realize his situation, but his younger self got loose and took off down the block. The night shifted around them and they were in his old apartment. Becca sat on the floor playing with his old GI Joes. Her clothes were second hand and a size too big, so she could grow into them. Bucky watched his mom yell into the phone.</p><p>“I need that money, Vinnie. What am I going to feed my kids with?” Winifred said, rummaging through the cabinets. Bucky knew nothing was in there that the rats hadn’t gotten to. There was plenty of beer though. “It’s Christmas, and I worked a double last week... Your audit has nothing to do with me or my cash...I can’t wait until the New Year...you know I don’t have papers...besides, the welfare office is closed you prick... Fuck you.”</p><p>“Mama,” Becca chirped.</p><p>“Not now, baby,” Winifred said, popping the top on a beer. Young Bucky ran through the door huffing, putting the chain on the door.</p><p>“What the fuck?” Winifred said. “You better not be stealing again. If they take you to juvie who’s going to watch your sister while I’m at work.” </p><p>“I didn’t do anything,” Bucky lied.</p><p>“Yeah? Why you run in here like the cops are chasing you.”</p><p>A knock sounded on the door. “I swear to God, Jimmy.” Winifred said walking, to the door. She looked out of the peephole. “Who is it?”</p><p>“It’s Nick Fury, Ms. Balan, down at the shop,” Winifred skewered her son with a look. She undid the chain and opened the door.</p><p>“Sorry to bother you, Ma’am, but Bucky left his bags,” Nick said, walking into the home.</p><p>“His bags?” Winifred asked, turning to Bucky.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m letting him sweep up and take out the trash at the shop. He was so worried about getting home, he forgot his shopping.”</p><p>“Jimmy you got a job? He’s eleven.”</p><p>“It’s a few chores after school and on the weekends, under the table. He’ll be home before you have to go to work. Well, I gotta go. I brought these by because we’re closing early, it being Christmas Eve and all,” Nick said, ruffling Becca’s hair. He turned and narrowed his eye at Bucky, “I’ll see you bright and early Saturday morning- 8:00am.”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Bucky said.</p><p>“Good, y'all have a Merry Christmas.” Nick said, walking out into the hall. Winifred shut and locked the door behind him. </p><p>“Oh Jimmy,” Winifred said, tearing up, unpacking the groceries. There was much more than what he stuffed down his shirt. Juice, eggs, milk, box macaroni and cheese, a box of cereal, a Margie doll and two packs of baseball cards. Fury always popped him for nicking those and candy bars. Winifred walked over and hugged her son. “I’m going to do better,” she said, picking up the doll. She handed it to him. He hugged her back, even though he knew it wasn’t true. He knelt in front of his sister and helped her open her gift.   </p><p> </p><p>-o0o- </p><p>It didn’t take long for the rushing wind to dry his tears. He wondered what happened to Old Man Fury. The man changed his life that night. Fury was plan A. Loki’s stash in the alley was plan B. It wasn’t a good plan. There was no telling what would have happened to him. He worked for Fury until he went off to the military. Bucky was assistant manager at seventeen. When He came home, Fury had sold to the Kapoors, and retired to Georgia. By then, Bucky had Becca and his mom living in Park Slope.</p><p>Barnes was torn. He longed to see what was inside of this building and dreaded it at the same time. Looking over it, he noted that the building hadn’t changed much over the years, but he was an entirely different man.</p><p>“You ready?” Jim asked, giving the man a moment.</p><p>“What is showing me all this shit supposed to do?” Barnes asked.</p><p>“Help you remember,” Jim repeated.</p><p>“Remember what?”</p><p>“Who you are.”</p><p>“I know who I am,” James said.</p><p>“Yes, but who could you have been?” Morita asked.</p><p>“Oh brother,” James grumbled.</p><p>“Exactly,” Morita smiled.</p><p>The world shifted around him and James was staring at the bravest and craziest motherfuckers in the 107th. They were only missing their captain who was back home in California, and oddly enough standing right beside him. James couldn’t help but laugh as the three men charged into a very quiet meeting room hooting and hollering with his former self in tow. They were mainly there to support him, during the Holidays no less, but they all had things that kept them up at night. They were all afraid to let go of one another and venture out on a whole new battlefield alone.</p><p>“Shush, you guys are fucking ridiculous. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” James’s past self said, embarrassed. The room was sparsely populated with a redhead, a lug head, and the most beautiful person Bucky had ever seen.</p><p>“You only need one more group session sign-off, and we’re lucky this one popped up before the holidays,” Gabe explained again. “You can sneak your application in right before the December 31st deadline for next quarter.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re right,” Bucky returned.</p><p>“Look Sarge, they’ve got cookies,” Junior said, walking over to the table.</p><p>“We usually wait until after the meeting to eat the cookies,” The black man sitting in the front row said, putting down his psychology textbook.</p><p>“Who died and made you boss?” Dum Dum asked.</p><p>“No one died, but my degree and Uncle Sam made me boss. I’m Sam Wilson. This is my session, and those are my mama’s ranger cookies. If you want some, you are going to have to sit your rowdy ass down and listen.”</p><p>“Ooh-” Dugan teased. Jones and Juniper laughed. </p><p>“Dugan, shut the fuck up, and sit down,” Bucky snapped. The men stopped talking, and they all made their way over to a row of seats in the back. Eventually the room filled with more veterans. It was actually fuller than Bucky had ever seen it. At first, he assumed it was the holiday blues, and that was definitely part of it, but now he understood very well that it was Sam Wilson and his easy smile. The session began and people began to share their stories. During this time in his life, Bucky didn’t think he should have even been there. The young man believed there was nothing wrong with him except a missing limb and a few bad dreams. He was there to get a sign off on his psych eval so he could get into the program the Maria Stark Foundation had for veterans. Gabe had done some research and found it online. Right now, Bucky could give a fuck about the program or cookies, he only saw one thing he wanted. James watched himself watch Sam Wilson.</p><p>When he was in the desert surrounded by men and lonely for companionship, he didn’t think too hard about letting Alvarez suck him off. He just wanted to slide his dick between someone’s lips. He fucked plenty of dames on leave. Sometimes the lengths between leave were too long, and he would let Alvarez ride his cock. When he came home for good, sometimes, late at night, he would think of the man stretched around him, but that was occasionally. He and Alvarez had been fucking for years at that point. He just missed the connection. He never thought of any other guy like that until Sam Wilson on that cold December night.</p><p>“I would like to thank everyone tonight for sharing your stories. We are not alone in this. I wanted to hold this last meeting before the holidays, because I know how hard they can be. Remember, I sat in those same exact seats five years ago. I didn’t know what I wanted or needed. I just knew there was a lot of pain and regret. I took it one day at a time. I realized I couldn’t do it by myself, and I followed the plan I set for my life with my therapist’s help. Does it ever go away? Not for me, not yet, probably not ever, but I did get better at dealing with it. I know it sounds corny as hell, but I used the tools. They’re the reason I’m standing here tonight. We got some new recruits in the house. Welcome. Does anybody have anything else on their hearts,” Sam said, looking over the audience. He gave the back row an extra second or two to engage. “If not, take a card and a cookie and Happy Holidays. I’ll see y’all next year.”</p><p>Juniper and Jones rushed towards the back table. “Let everyone get one cookie before we get seconds,” Sam instructed. “Clint,” Sam warned, pointing.</p><p>“Nat’s giving me her cookie,” Clint said, grabbing his two and a napkin. While most veterans moved to the back of the room for more coffee and cookies. Bucky walked up to Wilson for him to initial his form. He had one more therapy session, and he could apply for Stark’s program. He had an appointment Monday. </p><p>“Good session, Man. Can you sign my form?” Bucky said, taking the form out of his pocket and shaking it out.  </p><p>Sam watched him for a second. The man looked like he was deliberating, but settled on, “sure.” He took out a pen from a messenger bag and signed.</p><p>“Fuck, these cookies are good!” Dugan exclaimed. “Sarge, you want your cookie?” Dugan asked, mouth full.</p><p>“No,” Bucky said, looking back to his friends. Sam leaned down on a chair to write on the page. He had a nice ass.</p><p>“Trust me, you want the cookie,” Sam intervened.</p><p>Bucky’s brow quirked, “Yeah?” He turned back to his friends, “Save me one.” Dugan’s face fell.</p><p>“Here you go,” Sam said, holding out the form and putting the cap on his pen. He put it back in his bag. Bucky noticed the man didn’t have a ring on his finger. He didn’t even know if was Gay, Bi, or just open to a good time. Fuck it. Bucky has had the shittiest year. It’s been hard. Becca, Steve, and the guys had to pull him back from the brink. He could use some holiday cheer. “So, me and my friends are headed to this karaoke bar. Maybe you’d like to get shitfaced, sing awful carols, and share some more tools with us,” Bucky smiled.</p><p>“You seem like a real cool dude, but I’m not interested,” Sam said, going back to folding chairs. </p><p>Bucky could try to deny what he was after, but they both knew the truth. “Well shit, Merry Christmas.” He had never hassled a dame for a good time. He wasn't about to start with a guy. Yes, he wanted to know why. If it was the arm thing, the guy was an asshole anyway, especially working at the VA. It wasn’t like he was his therapist or anything.</p><p>“Merry Christmas,” Sam said.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p>The scene transformed into a Chinese restaurant. “What is this?” James asked, looking at Morita. That’s right. He met Sam on December 23rd that year. James watched “Sarge,” Dugan and Stevie get seated at a table.</p><p>“You, assholes, don’t have to babysit me. Stevie you got a few days off for vacation you should be spending it with your, Ma. Dugan your dumb ass should be on a train to Chicago.” </p><p>“I haven’t seen you in three months, Buck. I’ll spend all day with Ma tomorrow,” Steve responded.</p><p>“I told you Sarge, I need a little bit of time to adjust myself. My sister understands. She should she’s got five kids. I don’t want to scare none of them, and Betty went to see her folks down in Florida anyway. I’ll visit when she gets back. When there isn’t so much pressure. You know what I mean?” Dugan said.</p><p>“Yeah, I know what you mean. Becca wants us to spend Christmas with Ma and her new family. I buy her a house. I pay for rehab, and she trades Becca and me in for the Walton’s as soon as she’s clean. It’s everything Becca’s ever wanted, so it’s okay. I don’t have it in me to play pretend,” Bucky replied.</p><p>“So, let’s eat and head over to Peggy’s party. You can spend Christmas with me and Ma, you too, Dugan,” Steve suggested.</p><p>“Why do I know the name, Peggy?” Dugan asked, biting into his sweet and sour chicken.</p><p>“Because my pal Stevie has been in love with this dame ever since he went off to that fancy school of his. I call this joker to see how classes are going, and I get an ear full of Peggy for an hour. Remember, I told you about the blue ball sleepovers.”</p><p>“You told them that?” Stevie asked, blushing.</p><p>“Stevie, I don’t care what the dame is telling you. She calls you over after 11:00pm. She don’t want to cuddle,” Bucky informed.</p><p>“She works late at the library, besides Peggy is real smart and confident, you know. If she wanted something more she would tell me,” Steve replied.</p><p>“Sounds like she’s trying to tell you, pal.” Bucky laughed, taking a sip of his water.</p><p>“You sound like a creep. Things ain’t like it used to be,” Steve said.</p><p>“I’m not saying jump all over her. Just move in a little closer, and if she gives you any sign it’s unwelcome, back the fuck up. But if you move closer, and then she moves closer, she wants to cuddle with your cock. Just take it step by step, make sure you're on the same page,” Bucky explained.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Steve fretted.</p><p>“Tell him, Dugan.” Bucky said.</p><p>“I have no idea. I have been with the same chick since high school. We were prom king and queen. I thought I was the big man because I popped her cherry. Nope, after prom, she cut my balls off and stuck them in her purse. Do I care, no. My life is easier. She tells me to show up. I show up. She wants me to lick there. I lick there. I don’t have to beg or be charming. I get my rocks off, mow the lawn, fix shit, and watch the game. Overseas, I got care packages and new nudes every two weeks.” </p><p>“The packages were nice, the nudes too,” Bucky quipped.</p><p>“Shut up, Sarge. You didn’t need nudes, you had the real thing,” Dugan joked. Bucky glared at Dugan. His buddy had a big mouth. It was an open secret Alvarez was Bucky’s fuck buddy at camp. Bucky hadn’t shared that with anyone back home, not even his best friend.</p><p>“Of course, you found a girlfriend in the middle of the desert,” Steve said, biting into his spring roll. </p><p>“You know me. I’m always on the prowl,” Bucky smirked. His face fell when he noticed who was at the counter. Sam Wilson surely heard him. Bucky didn’t know why that bothered him. The guy said he wasn’t interested. He was alone. Bucky watched him order and pay for his food. Dugan followed Bucky’s eyes. </p><p>“Hey, it’s Wilson! I have to admit I thought you were being a little hoity toity about your cookies, but damn if they weren’t good. I’ve never had them before,” Dugan said. </p><p>“Oh, I don’t play about my Mama’s ranger cookies,” Sam said, smiling.</p><p>“My grandmother used to make ranger cookies. My mom talks about them all the time, especially during the holidays. She can’t find the recipe card,” Steve said.</p><p>“Give me your phone,” Sam said. Steve handed his phone over, no questions asked. Sam’s pocket pinged a minute later. “I’ll text you the recipe when I get home,” Sam said. Bucky was outdone. </p><p>“Thank you,” Steve said, awed. Yeah, Bucky understood the feeling.</p><p>“No problem, Man. It’s Christmas. See y’all at the center,” Sam said, heading for the restroom. Bucky tried to stay in his seat. He really did. When he walked into the bathroom, Sam was washing his hands. The counselor sighed, watching Bucky come closer.</p><p>“So, if I would have asked for your cookie recipe, I could have gotten your number?” Bucky flirted.</p><p>“No,” Sam said. Bucky pouted. Sam shook his head, smirking. “Your friend didn’t spend an entire group session eye fucking me,” Sam explained.</p><p>Bucky’s face screwed up. “That’s a bad thing?” He asked, moving closer to the man. </p><p>“No, not usually, but when you're supposed to be working on your shit,” Sam said, crossing his arms.</p><p>“So, if I come back and participate?” Bucky inched closer.</p><p>“You would come back to group?” Sam asked. Bucky shrugged. “Even though your form is filled out, just to talk to me,” Sam added.</p><p>Bucky smiled. Well, Mr. Wilson certainly had his number. He didn’t need all that touchy-feely stuff. He needed a state-of-the-art prosthetic, so he could get to work. He never told anyone, but he had gotten into Wharton before he shipped out. He didn’t have the money to pay for it. Even with Fury’s help and the scholarship they offered. Sure, he would have been aces, but Becca and his mom would starve, and he couldn’t do that. Now that the Army would pay for school and he had his disability check, he could get a part time job, help them and get a small place of his own. He also still had a little left on the mortgage at his Mom’s place. His disability was going to make it harder for him to get a good job, a good prosthetic would help. Gabe said Stark’s robot arm would be almost as good as his real arm, maybe even better. “I’ll come sit in every session you lead, as long as I get to look at that pretty face, and if I am guaranteed a date.”</p><p>Sam smiled, “Too bad I banned you from all of my sessions.” He walked around Bucky.</p><p>“What?” Bucky asked, following him. </p><p>Sam turned, “You spent the entire time eye fucking me, instead of working on your shit.”</p><p>“You agree that people deal with things in different ways,” Bucky argued.</p><p>“Don’t, okay. I take what I do very seriously. That center saved my life. It can help you too,” Sam said, sincerely, moving towards Bucky.</p><p>Bucky smiled, “What I need is an arm and someone to keep me warm tonight.” </p><p>“I bet that line works all the time, huh?” Sam smirked. </p><p>Bucky chuckled. “You’d be surprised how much.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Can I have your Mama’s cookie recipe?”</p><p>“No,” Sam said, walking out of the bathroom.</p><p>-o0o-</p><p>Barnes's heart fluttered looking at the next scene. Sam was lying in his bed reading Charles Dickens of all things. He was shirtless and had on gray sweats. James still had daydreams about those sweats until this day. How many times had Bucky traced the falcon on Sam’s pec with his tongue. Sam put down his book when his phone buzzed. James smiled.</p><p>“This cocky asshole,” Sam said, looking at Bucky’s tweet. He put his phone back on the nightstand. He went back to his book, but after a few minutes, Sam sighed. He looked around his bedroom and picked up the phone. He started to type, but put it down again. He picked it back up and punched into the screen, his brow raised. “Sam, you just got back on your feet, good. This fool thinks he’s okay. He’s not. He thinks that his prosthetic is going to solve his shit. It’s not. You already know what’s coming. You can’t help him, if he doesn’t want your help. He’s fine as hell and you're horny. Don’t get caught up,” Sam warned himself. His phone buzzed again. Sam stared at the screen in contemplation. He shrugged while writing his short message. After a moment his phone sounded. “Gahtdamn,” Sam gasped. James watched with glee as Sam moistened his lips and squeezed his cock.</p><p>“Morita, close your eyes,” James scolded. The ghost did as he was told while James drank in the sight of Sam yanking himself looking at the dick pic he had sent those many years ago. His baby was already leaking for him.</p><p>“He said a warm body for tonight. He said he is always on the prowl. He’s a fuck boy. He’s not even out. Hell, he might not identify as queer. You can let him dick you down tonight, and you’ll probably never see him again,” Sam reasoned.</p><p>An hour later Bucky was balls deep inside of Sam. He thought Alvarez felt good. This was something else. He came hard, wanting nothing more than to fill Sam up for the rest of his life.</p><p>-o0o-</p><p>The wind rushed at him. “Wait, we weren’t done. We took a shower. We made breakfast,” James protested. “I thought you wanted me to see this stuff.”</p><p>Barnes went silent watching his former self put the last few touches on the cake he was making. God, it was even uglier than he remembered. Mike and Sarah were crying laughing, opening the corn nuts and pumpkin seeds.</p><p>“This is so wrong. Don’t make my boy eat this,” M’Baku pleaded, holding the lone black candle.</p><p>“Don’t listen to him Bucky,” Sarah said, sprinkling corn nuts on the cake. Mike dumped half the bag of pumpkin seeds in one spot. The door opened. </p><p>“Okay,” Becca said, trudging through the door. “I found two more red candles.” She informed, putting the packages on the counter. “Oh my God. It looks just like the cake in the video.”</p><p>“I know,” Bucky and Sarah said with glee. Mike’s phone pinged. “They’re a block away.”</p><p>Sarah rushed to make holes in the cake big enough for the candles. Becca, Bucky, and Mike worked to get them in place. When done, they grabbed their coats and bags and ran into the guess room down the hall. A minute later Sam, the twins, and Skai walked through the front door, loaded with shopping bags.</p><p>“Surprise!” Bucky exclaimed. “Happy Kwanzaa!”</p><p>“Happy Wanza,” Skai giggled.</p><p>“Happy Kwanzaa?” Sam asked, taking off Skai’s coat. She ran off to the basket of toys they kept in their living room.</p><p>“Happy Kwanzaa!” Jai said. The young man walked up to the counter Bucky was standing at. The kid loved his Uncle Bucky. </p><p>“Happy Kwanzaa,” Kai repeated, but followed his sister into the living room, probably to play the game, Sam had just brought him. </p><p>Sam’s eyes were wide as he put down the shopping by the door. He walked into the kitchen, hesitantly, his eyes focused on the gray-brown monstrosity in Bucky’s hands. </p><p>“You helped me and Becca celebrate Hanukkah for the first time this year. So, I looked up Kwanzaa. You’ll be in DC, so I wanted to celebrate today with the kids. Look, I made this cake. Mike gave me the recipe,” Bucky said, proudly. He knew he was turning red, trying not to laugh. Sam looked equally horrified and pissed.</p><p>“You want to try some Jai?” Bucky asked. He couldn’t look at Sam anymore without losing his shit. The young boy eyed the cake, dubiously, but his loyalty to Bucky won out over his common sense.</p><p>“Okay?” He shrugged. </p><p>“Kai, Skai, you want some cake?” Bucky yelled. </p><p>“No,” Kai yelled back. Kai was a smart kid. </p><p>“Cake!” Skai chirped happily, coming into the kitchen. Her little eyebrows bunched at Bucky’s masterpiece. “Me no want,” she said, turning and going back to her puzzle. </p><p>“I’m going to cut you a big piece, baby,” Bucky said, doing just that.</p><p>“We just ate some chestnuts, so-” Sam stammered, watching Bucky cut into the cake. He grimaced when canned apple filling started falling out of the center. Bucky placed a slice in front of Sam and Jai. He scooped up some pie filling and plopped it on top.</p><p>“Try it,” he encouraged. Sam looked up from examining the cake with his fork.</p><p>“Where’s your piece?” Sam accused.</p><p>“I’m going to get some. I just wanted to see how you liked it first?” Bucky said. </p><p>Sam took his fork moving pumpkin seeds and… “What are these?” Sam asked, examining the corn nuts.</p><p>“Corn nuts,” Bucky said, smiling. Sam’s eyes expanded, and Bucky couldn’t stand it any longer. He doubled over in laughter. Sarah, Mike, M’Baku and Becca came rushing out of the den laughing and pointing.</p><p>“Oh, you motherfucker!” Sam said, throwing his fork on the counter.</p><p>“No-No word,” Skai chastised, standing around with a book in her hand. She was trying to figure out what was so funny.</p><p>“I got it on tape, too,” Mike said, taking his phone off the refrigerator.</p><p>“Yo, I thought we were going to have to break up,” Sam said, laughing. Bucky laughed, coming around the counter to hug and kiss his boyfriend. He tried to scoop up some cake and feed it to Sam. “Get that shit away from me.” Bucky shrugged and put the fork in his mouth.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Bucky declared. Bak and Mike eyed one another, falling out.</p><p>“I’m not even going to say anything,” Mike joked. “But, it’s so easy.”</p><p>“I like it,” Jai said, his piece halfway gone.</p><p>“Mm mm,” Sarah said, taking his plate away from him. She went into the fridge and started pulling out trays of food. Becca helped, taking dishes out of the oven. They were going to celebrate Kwanzaa, Barnes-Wilson style-good food, good drink, and good music.</p><p>“What time is everybody getting here?” Sarah said, pulling out the liquor and a frozen concoction.</p><p>“Six,” Bucky said, swiping his finger in the frosting, the best part of the cake. He fed it to Sam. Sam sucked it off slowly and swirled it around in his mouth, actually trying to give it a chance. He tried. He shook his head at his partner. “It’s the thought that counts,” Bucky cooed, kissing him again.</p><p>“You’re right, but don’t think that shit no more,” Sam said, pinching him for setting him up. </p><p>“Ow!” Bucky pouted. Sam pursed his lips, but pulled him into another kiss. </p><p>“Happy Kwanzaa, Sam. I love you.”</p><p>“Happy Hanukkah, Bae. I love you too.”</p><p>Mike tasted the cake on Jai’s discarded plate. “This shit is a hate crime.”</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p>James wiped his tears.</p><p>“Come my friend, there is another Christmas Eve with Sam, you need to see before our time is up.”</p><p>“Is it the time I met his whole family? Or that time he had to bail me out because I beat Becca’s boyfriend ass? He was so pissed, until I proposed,” James said, smiling. </p><p>“No,” Jim said as they landed. James looked around. They were at his Brooklyn brownstone. It was filled with color and light, a far cry from its state in the present. </p><p>“I don’t want to see this. What’s the point of this?” James said, turning away from the scene before him.</p><p>“To examine who you could have been,” Morita explained.</p><p>“He left me. Why am I being tortured for a choice he made,” James said, finally looking at Sam sitting stiffly on the couch. Looking back, he doesn’t know how he didn’t see the bags packed by the door. They looked like a mountain watching Sam wait for Bucky to come home. James watched the agony on Sam’s face, watched him wipe tear after tear, and watched him sit there for hours and jump at the slightest sound. James didn’t understand. If he was so fucking sad, why did he leave? Finally, the key clicked in the lock. Bucky walked right through James dropping the mail on the counter. The house was dark. Sam didn’t even get up to turn on any lights.</p><p>“Sam, Baby, are you sleeping?” Bucky called. “You didn’t plug in the tree or the decorative Menorah.” When everything was lit up Bucky turned and jumped because Sam was still sitting on the couch. “What the fuck?” Bucky said, grabbing his chest. He unloosened his tie. “Why are you sitting here in the dark?”</p><p>“I’ve been sitting here since 4:30 to tell you I’m leaving,” Sam said.</p><p>“Leaving?” Bucky asked. “You got another meeting in DC?” Bucky sat down across from his fiancé.</p><p>“No,” Sam responded. His eyes were glistening. He swallowed. “I’m leaving you, this, us.”</p><p>They sat there in silence. James watched himself figure out how to play this. “Sam, what are you talking about?” Bucky asked, scooting up in his chair to move closer to his boyfriend of nine years.</p><p>Sam inhaled and exhaled with force. Sam’s melancholy was being replaced by anger. Bucky studied him like he did the market. He would assess and recalibrate with every breath, twitch of Sam’s hands. “I was doing laundry last week. I was putting away your socks,” Sam informed.</p><p>Bucky stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “I can explain,” Bucky began. He shouldn’t have wasted his breath. Bucky knew Sam was serious about their recoveries. In some ways, he would be in less trouble if he had cheated. There was hope. Sam had waited a week before confronting him. Bucky knew he was weighing what action to take. There was room for negotiation. </p><p>“How long have you been off your meds?” Sam asked. </p><p>“They make me foggy, Babe. I need to be clear to do my job,” Bucky explained.</p><p>“So, you talk to your doctor, you don’t go off your meds,” Sam argued.</p><p>“They’re never going to let us have a baby, Sam,” Bucky said, getting to the heart of it. Sam rolled his eyes. “I have night terrors-PTSD. You have clinical depression. The gay, physically disabled, and interracial thing doesn’t help either.”</p><p>“It doesn’t even cross your mind that I’m worried about you, that you think your fucking invincible and can do everything yourself, that you push yourself too hard and obsess over money. This is what happened last time.”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about that,” Bucky retreated, his hands going in his lap. They sat in stilted silence.</p><p>“No, I didn’t think so,” Sam finally said, agony written on his face. “But you’re right, they're not going to let us adopt. I know that now, because you never had any intention of marrying me.”</p><p>“What?” Bucky said, blindsided.</p><p>“Stark and Pepper dropped by my office to bring a check from the foundation. Congratulations, you made partner,” Sam said, his eyes tearing up.</p><p> Bucky’s eyes closed in regret. He watched Sam wipe a tear from his eye. For the first time tonight, fear seized his heart. “I was going to tell you,” Bucky said just above a whisper.</p><p>“When?” Sam smiled, sardonically.</p><p>“When, I had a better read on our nest egg,” Bucky said, slowly. He wanted to prolong what he knew was coming next.</p><p>“I actually believed your bullshit about being established first. Let’s own a house, let’s build up our savings, let’s wait until I make partner. I’m the fucking director of the VA.” Sam said, openly crying now. “I make two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year. You’re a millionaire.”</p><p>“Barely. Weddings, marriages, and houses cost a lot of money. You know I want to start my own company. I’m paying for Becca’s Masters. Baby, I need you to be patient,” Bucky pleaded.</p><p>“I’ve given you ten years, Buck. It’s the same thing over and over. I have to get off this merry go round. I can’t give anymore,” Sam said.</p><p>“I’ll go talk to the doctor and get my meds right. I can pull up our investments,” Bucky offered. Sam shook his head. It even sounded hollow in Bucky’s ears. He had said it so many times before. He knew what he should say, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He said it to his father when he was six. He said it to his mom when he was scared to stay home at night by himself. He said it to Ralston as he lay dying in his arms. He had learned a long time ago it was a curse that backfired on you and left you a shell of the person you once were. If he said it now, and it didn’t work, it would destroy him.</p><p>“For the record, this is my dream house-me and you and a roof over our heads. You're my home. I would have married you at the courthouse in a paper sack,” Sam said, grabbing his bags. He opened the door, “Merry Christmas,” and walked out of Bucky’s life.</p><p>James didn’t know how long he watched his younger self stare at the front door on the verge of going after Sam. Eventually, he watched Bucky grab the whiskey off the bar cart and head upstairs to his office. He had work to do.</p><p>“This is asinine. What does Sam Wilson have to do with my successes? He left me before I started my company. He gave up on me like everyone else, and you know what I just worked harder. What do you want me to say, Morita? I loved him. There was no one else. There is no one else. I wanted to give him everything. He wanted family. They were never going to give a volatile cyborg a kid. I sponsored the research that could combine same sex DNA into a viable fetus. It was still early and I didn’t want to get Sam’s hopes up. He wanted a home. I owned the fucking block. I just needed Ms. Kramer to retire and take her stubborn ass to Florida so I could expand. He wanted to get married. I had his ring made from vibranium. It’s the most indestructible metal in the world. I thought it was a symbol of our love. If he had just given me more time, I could have made it perfect. We could have been...The joke was on me. It’s always on me. Yes, I shouldn’t have gone off my meds. And Maybe, I should have let him in on my plans, but I wanted it to be a surprise and after he left...I don’t have time for quitters in my life,” James finished out of breath. He looked around and he was back in his bedroom. His phone was in his hands. It was on. <em> No. No. No! </em> Barnes thought, looking at the name on the screen.</p><p>“Buck?” A familiar voice squawked at him. James hung up, turned off his phone, and collapsed back onto his bed. <em> Motherfuck. </em>He was going to kill pothead Steve.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Miserbot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Formerly the Ghost Of Christmas Present</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>James tried to stay awake, but he was a dumb ass and had swallowed that pill. It dragged him down into sleep. It was a restless and suffocating slumber, opposite of the good rest it claimed it could provide. He was both aware and unaware. He could feel when his body finally started to relax. He dreamt of sugar plum fairies dancing in the snow and dainty melodies that put a smile on his face until the music grew louder and sharper and the fairies turned into groupies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barnes woke up to a rager going on in his bedroom. Leather clad men and women were lounging on his furniture. There was a tree decorated with colorful guitars and neon feathers. Vibrant garlands were hung all over his walls. Who knew you could get garland in zebra print? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every surface in his bedroom was covered with food. It looked like it was enough to feed every hungry mouth in New York City, and the amount of alcohol was obscene. Barnes really hoped those two guys in the corner were dancing, and not fucking against his Manet. Tony Stark sat on his couch, letting a bleach blonde feed him grapes, Metallica blasted through the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James stormed over to the couch, “I thought you gave all this shit up, so you could focus, rebuild the Stark brand.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, so, you still don’t get what’s happening?” Stark said, gesturing around the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s two o’clock in the morning. I have neighbors. Can you turn this shit off?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ghost Tony sighed. “Tony Stark was in the room, when you yelled at the architect because the soundproofing wasn’t thick enough. He thought you were into bondage or contract killing. It’s a shame you just wanted quiet to read boring numbers all night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t Tony Stark now. He’s a philanthropist. He’s getting married to the love of his life in six days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your point?” The ghost asked, blinking up at James.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aren’t you the Ghost of Christmas Present?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some people call me that. I don’t like labels,” He said with a grimace. “And this is YOLO Tony. He is the only person in your sad life that knew how to live in the here and now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I live in the present,” Barnes returned.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think you live in the present. You worry about the future and run from your past.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, pal. I’m already tired of you. Let’s get this show on the road. Show me all my friends and family enjoying their Christmas without me,” James said, motioning the poltergeist up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever,” Tony said, rising. He leaned over to a handsome brunette man and stuck his tongue down his throat. Barnes’s eyes scrunched when he realized the man looked like Bruce Banner, the head of R and D at Stark Corp. Bucky squinted and covered his ears when Van Halen’s “Eruption” swept over him. It was so loud it felt like Eddie Van Halen was shredding on his heart instead of the guitar strings. When it subsided, and he looked up he was at Luke’s Bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>-o0o-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James sighed. He couldn’t believe these idiots still did this shit every year. Gabe and Junior were on the mic singing some Christmas country song. Clint was cheering, as Gabe’s wife, Benita, took out her lighter and waved it in the sky. Tara, Junior’s sister, was taking pictures. Angie and Betty, apparently knew all the words. Natasha, Peggy and Misty smiled politely as Dugan and Steve swayed along. When the song ended Gabe and Junior took a deep bow as patrons clapped.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jessica jumped on stage and took the mic from Junior, “That was pretty terrible...and awesome! Give it up for the Howling Commandos. The reigning champions of Christmas Karaoke.” The crowd went crazy. “But wait just a second, Nelson and Murdock are in the building. Are they coming for the crown?” Half the crowd cheered as the Commando table booed. Even Posh Peggy got in on the revelry. James couldn’t help but smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dugan was spying on Matt and Foggy. “They got their new secretary over there. She could be a ringer,” He said, giving Foggy the “I’m watching you” sign. Foggy mimed back a cutthroat threat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s not the one you need to worry about,” Misty said, taking a sip of her rum and coke. “That’s Colleen Wing, their investigator,” She informed, motioning to the cute Asian girl at the bar. “She’s a good one too. She’s a better singer.” Misty would know. She was one of the best investigators in the business. She worked with Peggy and Angie down at their corporate law firm.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, there goes our free round every Friday. Damn it. If Barnes was here...” Clint speculated, upset. He turned to his girlfriend, “I thought you were going to say something, Nat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something was off tonight. He’s not ready, and it’s best not to push when he’s already spooked,” Natasha returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been years, and he’s only getting worse,” Steve said, taking a sip of beer. ‘You know he told me to order those weird torture toilet seats. I had to talk him out of the surveillance state name badges. I barely recognize him now, and I made him ranger cookies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re alive to talk about it?” Gabe joked. “Sarge always ran a tight ship, but he’s on one-been on one. I put my head down and stay out of his way at work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just for a moment, he peeked through, tonight. I thought…” Steve paused. Junior clapped Steve on this back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know him like you guys, but he’s always been an asshole to me. Some people change. We see it all the time at the firm: partners going into business and then end up suing one another, or marriages starting out idyllic, and ending in misery. I get sad watching my friends mourn this man every year, and he’s just ten minutes away,” Angie said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s in there. He hired me with no experience. Do you know how much I fucked up that first year? Sure, he reamed me out, but I still have a job. He gave us all jobs when we needed them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m with Angie. James was cool when we first met, but now...and sometimes people give you things, so they can have you in their debts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not Buck,” Steve defended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t Buck,” Dugan said. “Look Rogers, that man saved my life no less than three times, and I’d do anything for him, and I know how you feel, but money changes people, maybe the girls have a point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fear changes people,” Natasha interjected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m with Steve. Sure, he’s crotchety, but he’s still a good guy,” Clint declared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re all good guys and gals, and it’s Christmas. Angie’s correct, we should be celebrating. I believe we have a title to defend,” Peggy said, rising from her seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit!” Junior exclaimed. Peggy never sang- ever.  The bar was transfixed as Peggy belted out Nancy Wilson’s version of “That’s What I Want For Christmas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve is an idiot,” James said, watching Peggy serenade his assistant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve’s an idiot? That’s what you learned from this demonstration,” Tony asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They're happy and I’m…” Barnes stopped, searching for a word that felt true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re?” Tony, the friendly ghost, encouraged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Busy,” James said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were so close. So close,” Tony said, sipping a vodka soda.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where the fuck did you get a drink?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why? You want one?” Tony said, chewing on some ice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” James admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too bad. Drinks are folks who aren’t the Grinch,” Tony said, phasing away. James glanced at his friends one more time hugging and cheering for Peggy as she took her seat. Steve went to hug her too, but Dugan took Clint’s mistletoe headband off the man, and stuck it on Steve. The man turned red. Peggy smiled, pulled Steve by the collar and plastered herself against him. James was grinning until Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” crashed into him, knocking him into a picture of him, Becca, and his Ma on her graduation day. He was at his sister’s Brownstone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a wonder you’re not deaf, pal.” James said, finding Tony in this yuppie crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What because I don’t like swing music? Bo-ring.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s called Big Band,” Barnes returned. He liked jazz, so what. He listened to hip-hop and some metal. He used to love Old School R&amp;B and Soul but there were too many memories attached to a lot of those songs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you call it, it’s a snooze fest. Ooh! Little sister’s all grown up.” Tony said, leering at Becca in the kitchen. She was on the phone and leaning against the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Barnes said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, you shut up. Maybe, you’ll learn something this time,” The ghost returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James doubted it. Spirit Tony called him boring, but this was not so much a party as a pissing contest with food and drink. Barnes walked around the room as Becca’s “friends” tried to one-up one another. Who the fuck were these people? Where were Ma and the husband? Becca finally scurried in from the kitchen as a few folks gathered on the couches in the middle of the room. James was half asleep witnessing the most boring game on the planet. Tony was asleep in a busty redhead’s lap. Not that she knew he was there. Barnes was about to head up stairs for a nap of his own when it was Becca’s turn. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Todd turned to Becca. James didn’t understand why her “fiancé” chose to be on another team. Relationships meant partner, teammate. Tony was right. His baby sister was grown now. She was a self-proclaimed feminist, and she let him know loudly when he tried to give her advice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In game five of the 1942 World series-” Todd began.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, she had this one, James thought, moving closer to his sister.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was the final score?” Todd asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, I know this. It was the Cardinals and the Yankees,” Becca said, thinking with her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” James grinned. She actually listened to him when he was fixing her lunches and brushing her hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Cardinals won,” Becca added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, James thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was it 4 and 0 or 4 and 2?” Becca asked herself. Her eyes were pointed towards the sky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. You tell us,” Todd smarmed. His friends chuckled. Barnes glared at Becca’s fiancé. James had Natasha run the background check, and Todd came out clean - more than clean. The guy was perfect on paper, and Becca deserved the best, but he had only met the guy a few times. He was appropriately polite during those dinners, but here he was being an asshole to his kid sister, so he could look good in front of these douchebags.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“4 and 0,” Becca finally guessed. Todd smiled, showing Becca the card.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit!” James exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tough break, that guys an asshole,” Tony quipped.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right?” James said, turning towards Stark. “So, I wouldn’t be a misogynistic asshole with control issues if I popped him in the nose the next time I saw him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably, I’m going to go with yes, but Chet totally deserves it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Becca sighed as the other team celebrated their win. “I’m so embarrassed. Bucky would be so pissed right now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn right,” Barnes said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Todd rolled his eyes. Becca quirked her brow. “What’s that about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bucky this and Bucky that. The guy barely answers your calls. You're too old for hero worship, Babe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Becca and Barnes were instantly annoyed. “He’s busy, running a Fortune 500 company,” Becca returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fortune 200!” James interjected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not a thing,” Ghost Tony sang.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a thing,” James returned.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s 100 or 500, that’s all I’m saying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go back to sleep,” Barnes dismissed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s busy dodging your calls,” Todd mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Becca’s eyes popped open. “My brother raised me, and put me through college and grad school. He sacrificed everything,” Becca informed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did he sacrifice? He's a billionaire, and an asshole. Baby, you’re so sweet, but I have no idea why you try anymore,” Todd said. Becca looked around the room. Stilted conversations had died down to a murmur. Her frenemies wouldn’t look her in the eye. James watched as his sister fumed, her eyes watering. She cried when she was angry. “Excuse me,” She said, getting up from the couch. The asshole huffed like a spoiled debutant instead of going after his sister. Todd didn’t know Becca was probably planning his murder. Which was fine, because he had excellent lawyers and homes in three no extradition countries.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to rearrange this punk’s face,” James said, pacing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why? He was telling the truth. Does he have a tiny dick? Yes. Is he a liar? No,” Tony said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t dodge my sister’s calls. I make sure she has everything. I check in on her,” Barnes replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When was the last time you had a conversation with her longer than fifteen minutes?” Stark questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re adults. She doesn’t need me like she used to. She has friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does she? I hope you don’t mean these jerk offs?” Stark said, gesturing to the people who had gone back to humble bragging and passive aggressive conversations.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is what she wants-deserves. Normal people. A regular family,” Bucky defended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not supposed to do this, it’s supposed to be your journey, yadda yadda yadda, but I don’t give a shit.” Tony said, rolling his eyes.  “You were her regular family,” Tony explained like he was talking to an idiot.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was a kid, trying to survive,” Barnes ground out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You took care of her, fed her, protected her and loved her...and your mom. I know you like to leave out the shit that makes you vulnerable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t understand. You don’t know her,” James said, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She wants this because this is what you told her a regular family looked like. You told her this was the dream."</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up. What the fuck do you know about me? This is my fault? Everything’s my fault. I’m an asshole. Is that the lesson? I get it. I got it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No miserbot, you don’t.” Tony said, standing, straightening his giant sunglasses. “I knew I should have signed up for Bezos instead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miserbot? That’s cute,” James snarked. He didn’t even flinch this time when Motley Crue‘s drums punched into him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-o0o-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James actually listened to the lyrics about two young people falling in love and parting amicably. A soon as the world came into focus around him, he saw that he was on Chapel Street, and he started laughing his ass off. Him and Sam weren’t amicable. They were nothing. Everyone knew that Wilson was “he that should not be named”. The ending of the song seemed more fitting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam wanted to go, so he let him. He didn't have time for love anyway. Sex, he had use for. He liked getting his dick wet like any other fella, but love. That was for people with time and patience. He had neither. He never slept with the same woman twice, and when the inclination hit him he would find a discreet glory hole. Sex workers were a plenty in this town. Now, with the Internet, you could fly whomever you wanted in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is nothing here for me,” Barnes declared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No more talking. Just listening,” Tony said. James rolled his eyes, but he was fine with that. He had shit to do. The faster this was over, the better. James watched Tony walk into the office on the top floor. James crossed his arms and refused to go into the room. Tony shrugged and shut the door. James was in the dark for all of two minutes until light erupted around him from Sam’s desk lamp. James glared at Tony who was lounging on the couch. The spirit smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam’s office was nice. He had a Van Armstrong-Joe Louis behind his desk. Was that a picture with Obama? Biden? Harris? Ms. Darlene smiled from a shelf. She had gone gray. Sarah looked older too. Holy fuck was this the twins. Of course, they followed their favorite Uncle into the Air Force. His ex spent too much time hyping up jumping out of airplanes. Skai was in high school? James thought, looking at her in her band uniform. James remembered babysitting her, and taking her to the zoo. They took the twins camping and to Yankees games all the time. When they broke up Jai had just made it on the junior varsity baseball team. He never got the bat and glove James brought for him. He had the glove embossed with his name. It was probably still in the Brooklyn house collecting dust like everything else that reminded him of the man in front of him.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barnes shook his head, but gave in. Obviously, the ghost or the dream or his subconscious wasn’t going to let up until he took this shit head on. He ignored the yearning, and finally looked at Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked tired, like he wasn’t sleeping. Barnes watched him take out an Advil and drink it down with a juice. Geez, Wilson if you don’t feel good you need to go home. James looked at the clock. It was after nine. Sam stretched his neck. He turned and looked out the window for a moment, searching the cityscape beneath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shit.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A young woman walked into the office right through James. She had those braids the young ladies were wearing now. His coffee girl had them in neon purple. “Okay, Boss. I’m about to head home, and you should too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Janae, I told you to leave three hours ago. Why are you still here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you’re still here,” She answered, placing files on his desk. She cleared away coffee cups and placed them in the trash.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m walking out in 20 minutes. I needed to make sure all the funding is in place before I go on break,” Sam said, signing what looked like a requisition form. He had a neat stack next to him already completed.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Misty called and said you should meet them at Luke’s,” Janae said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She knows that’s not going to happen,” Sam said, signing his last form, picking up the stack and handing it to Janae.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They were your friends too, right?” Janae asked.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s how breakups work. He hates me. They hate me,” Sam informed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hasn’t it been like forever. You moved on. He’s moved on,” Janae suggested. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam laughed at that. “You never met my ex. He doesn’t move on,” Sam said. He smiled for a moment, “He moves forward.” God, James missed that smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Mr. Riley going to meet your family tomorrow?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who the fuck is Riley?” James said to Stark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re listening,” Stark returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Me and Riley are taking a break,” Sam said, turning to his computer screen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not another one. He was perfect!” Janae exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was,” Sam agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Sam deflected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My friends are a wild bunch. They haven’t even got started. I have plenty of time to get wasted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You be safe out there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re spending tomorrow with your family, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Sam answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you, Claire, and Misty are going to Atlantic City for the New Year?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When the fuck did him and Misty become BFFs? Wait...Claire. As in Claire Temple?” James asked Stark. The man tapped on his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Janae. I already have a mother. I don’t mind another little sister, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boss, you don’t take care of yourself enough. You spend all your time here, at the foundation, and at the homeless shelter. You get here before everyone and leave after dark. You're pretty fly for an older guy. If you weren’t gay I would try to hook you up with my Auntie Cheryl. She thirsty, but she makes the best sweet potato pie.”  </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, how’s her pecan pie?” Sam said, answering an email.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t play. She’ll be up in here, trying to put it on you,” Janae said.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about me Janae, but for real, I’m about to go. You go have fun with your friends, and you and Misty stop gossiping,” Sam chastised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janae nodded, but even James who didn’t know her at all could tell that wasn’t going to happen by the look on her face. It was good he had someone to tell him he was overdoing it and that Misty kept in contact. James was trying to remember if him and Misty ever disagreed about something. He had no idea and ultimately, it didn’t matter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I forgot, Becca called too. She invited you to her Christmas party. You should go. You know he’s not going to be there.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, Becca had some explaining to do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, James thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. That’s his baby sister. The only person he loves. I have no right to that. We’ll get lunch in the New Year.”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What? Barnes couldn’t believe that Sam has been on the periphery of his life all these years. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just out of reach</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his traitorous mind supplied. His friends and family still talked to him-hung out with him. It’s like they were all playing some giant game of hide and seek. James supposed it was the way he had wanted it. It wasn’t a big deal, but it still shifted a lot of things he hadn’t thought about in a while.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to tell her Todd is not the one? Junior’s fine self is right there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Junior?” James said, whirling around to look at Stark. “Junior, who?” The ghost ignored him. James frowned. He was going to have to hire a new warehouse manager.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Janae, you know way too much about my personal life,” Sam said, laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what little sisters are for,” she shrugged. “Merry Christmas, Boss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas, Janae.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was a man of his word. About fifteen minutes later, he turned off his computer and stood. His phone rang. He looked at the screen, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam Wilson,” Sam smirked. He sighed, “Aren’t you at a bar? Go sing something. Do Darlene Love for me... Don’t go there, I have loved that song forever...I was going to tell you on the trip,” Sam sighed. “Just because he was perfect doesn’t mean he was perfect for me...We’ll talk about it on the trip...I love you, but I’m not missing my Mama’s Macaroni and Cheese so you can gossip with Claire, Becca, Sarah and Janae...Where’s your man by the way...Oh, he’s in Asia…Again...Oh! You just want to discuss my love life...I was headed out the door when you called...You know I’m not coming to the bar...Steve hasn’t said shit to me in seven years. He blames me because Bucky set his ass down too, and I don’t got time for that bullshit...I gotta get up early anyway...Just cause you‘re an investigator doesn’t mean you get to be all up in my business...I’m going to the shelter with Mike, Luke, Bak, and Rhodey, Nosy...Bak says hi by the way...I’m just saying, if Rand don’t work out, M’Baku’s right there...Oh, now you got to go?...Merry Christmas, Baby.”   </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam put away his phone in his bag. He turned off his lamp. He was about to move around his desk, but he turned and walked over to the window. He stood there peering out of it, searching the street below. He sighed, shook his head. “You’re so fucking stupid, Wilson,” Sam said. He walked out of his office and closed his door. James stood there in darkness processing what he just witnessed, numb. Guns N’ Roses “Paradise City” shook him out of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-o0o-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lights flickered on, but instead of Sam’s office he was standing in a hallway. Barnes was confused until a unique smell hit his nostrils.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are we in a hospital?” Barnes asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Figures, you recognize the scent of sickness and despair, huh?” Stark snarked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would too, if your best friend growing up was allergic to everything, and your mom was an addict. Why the fuck are we here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stark pointed and the elevator door opened. Steve, Dugan, Betty, and Peggy rushed to the nurses’ station.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” James asked, his heart trying to beat out of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Steve,” a young Latina woman said. “She’s stable now, and comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you so much,” Steve said, crying. He rushed into a room-the door left ajar. James trudged over to it and paled, spying Mrs. Rogers in the hospital bed.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leti, is there any hope?” Peggy questioned in a hushed tone. James turned back to the nurse.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re doing everything we can. Doctors are donating their time. Constance has found every loophole in her insurance, but without that procedure-” The nurse paused, shaking her head. “It’s so expensive.” Leti looked over towards the room. Steve was kissing his mother’s brow. “She was the sweetest and hardest working nurse on the floor. Three months until retirement, and this happens. She’s a fighter, and we're holding the line, praying for a miracle.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The insurance company has blocked my injunction. We have a hearing next Monday. Misty’s looking for any malfeasance, but she doesn’t think it looks good,” Peggy said. She turned to the man beside her. “Dugan, you have to tell him.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve forbid it, and he controls Sarge’s and my schedule. You know what a hard time he’s had. He feels like he’s lost Sarge. I’m not going against his wishes, Peg.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t understand,” James said, turning back to the woman who helped raise him. How many nights did he and Becca spend at Mrs. Rogers house?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What don’t you understand? You got rich, and what was it you said? Oh yeah, ‘Busy’. You knew she was sick, right?” Stark said, sucking on a candy cane that he stole off a tree in the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but when I asked, he said she was fine. I sent…” James paused, remembering he forgot to ask Becca to take care of it, and he couldn’t ask Steve. “I meant to send flowers, but he said she was fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you mean that one time you asked a year ago? You think he wanted to crawl to you for a job- tiny stubborn man? He needed steady income.  He works for you all day. He visits his mom during lunch and dinner, and he paints all night. Sells everything for way cheaper than he should. Tonight was the first night he had been out in ages.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought he was dicking around with the guys...I would have helped,” James said, shaking his head. “I will help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you?” Stark poked.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, and he should know that,” James said angry. They act like he had turned into some monster, some heartless brainless killer. Was he money savvy? Yeah. Was he focused, yes. That didn’t mean… </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should he? It’ll put a dent in your precious nest egg.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, he should know, and I don’t care!” James yelled, breathing hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would he know that? He’s your assistant, not your friend. Not anymore. You don’t see anything or anyone except your bottom line.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take me home,” James hissed.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean that dark empty house? Whatever you want, Mr. Fortune 200.” Tony said.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what-” James turned to give specter Stark a piece of his mind. He found himself staring at his own reflection in the antique mirror he found in a dumpster and had restored. His grandfather's clock chimed four times, echoing through the house. His home did feel empty. His bedroom felt just as cold and dark as the street outside his frosted window. He went and peered out of it. There was a man dressed in black staring up at him. He had long greasy hair and some type of mask covering the bottom of his face. James thought about what Clint said earlier and the hate mail. He backed up, heading towards his nightstand that held his phone and Glock. He ran into the figure on the street.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Who Are You Supposed to Be?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>James scrambled to the other side of the room. What the hell? This guy was dressed like an extra in Matrix 3. When the guy didn’t move or say anything, Barnes understood. He pursed his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I take it you're the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come,” James said. This last ghost wasn’t a chatty fellow. He glared at James. “Nice getup. Who are you supposed to be? Darth Vader?” Still nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barnes exhaled. “Look, I know this night is my subconscious, meds, and pot dealing with some things I let go for too long, but you won. I’m going to check on Steve and Becca tomorrow. Maybe Becca and I can go get some Chinese and visit Mrs. Rogers. If there is a real issue, I’ll take care of everything, and donate $25,000 to Night Nurse. I’ll sell the brownstone in Brooklyn and stop going to Chapel Street. I should have never started anyway. Okay? You can crawl back to wherever I imagined you from. I’m guessing the BDSM club I went to last year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When James made it to the Fortune 500, he was so excited. He took Becca out to eat. Him, Steve, and the Commandos got drinks. And when he got home, he decided to hire a call girl for the weekend. He took his time scrolling through the menu, but he couldn’t find anyone he was interested in. On a whim he flipped to the male section, he looked around until one fellow with nice cheekbones caught his eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James hired him on the spot, but when he got to the townhouse, he was shorter than James expected, and his picture on the site must have been from the summer. Bucky paid his fee and sent him on his way. Bucky threw on some sweats, thinking he was about to visit his favorite glory hole. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ended up on Chapel Street. He only stayed for a moment. This night was supposed to be theirs, at least that’s how he had imagined it. Somehow coming to this empty building made James feel less alone. It became ritual; if he got a win, he gave himself five minutes at most for a moment of weakness. He came when no one should have been in the office. He came when people with lives should be out living them. How long had he been watching him from the window above?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barnes heard a mechanical whirring. He looked down at the man’s arm in confusion. When he glanced up to look in the wraith’s eyes for confirmation, he found himself in another office. Sam sat behind a sleek desk in an expensive suit. He must have gotten promoted, but this wasn’t DC though, that was a Manhattan skyline.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam still looked good even though he had a salt and pepper low cut and goatee. His face though, it held no joy, just focus. James watched him type. His heart dropped into his stomach when he realized he had on a wedding ring. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He’s surprised it wasn’t sooner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stark burst into the room, drinking a green juice. “So, did Rhodey go for it?” Stark said, plopping in a chair, kicking his feet up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, you could ask him yourself. He’s your best friend,” Sam replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He works for Stark?” James asked, disgusted, turning to the phantom. Of course, the ninja wannabe didn’t respond. “Sam loved the VA,” James mumbled to himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me and Rhodey are having a difference of opinion,” Stark informed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me guess. He wants exclusive rights for the US military, and you want to sell to any and every one, and make a shit load of money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly!” Stark exclaimed. “I feel like we’ve gotten so close over these last few years,” Stark quipped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just doing my job,” Sam said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, hey, did you hear about...” Stark hedged, grimacing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Sam said, cutting him off. Whatever it was, Sam was agitated.  “I wish everyone would stop asking. I dated the guy a decade and a half ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just saying if you need some time,” Stark shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m in the middle of bringing the Chennai factory online, besides Riley and I have to pick up Reagan from her mom’s.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Tony uttered. “How’s the stepdad gig going?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Weird as shit. I used to want kids so bad. Reagan is a pissed off thirteen-year-old who hates both her parents for getting divorce, and I’m supposed to do what? Be there? Talk about boys with her? She thinks I’m the “ho,” her words not mine, that broke up her parents.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you?” Tony smirked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, they were separated when we met,” Sam defended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, that’s a yes,” Stark said, getting up and walking out. Sam flipped him off. Tony popped his head back in, “Hey, Pepper’s niece is into that Sir Carter kid-rapper or something or other. I had to buy tickets for Jax Bieber, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s actually helpful, Tony. Thanks. And, just a heads up, I asked Misty to step into my foundation slot until I can get through this Asia push. Can you let Pepper know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. We doing sushi this Friday?” Stark asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At that place you like? I’ll check with Riley, but I’m in.” Sam returned, going back to his work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I just threw up in my mouth,” James said. “That isn’t Sam. He loves the Maria Stark Foundation. He was beyond honored when Pepper asked him to serve on the board.  He would never give it up to do whatever Stark’s got him doing. I thought this Riley guy wasn’t for him, and where'd he get that suit, douche bags are us?” James turned to look at Shredder ghost again, but a forklift blocked his view.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-o0o-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barnes knew this wasn’t the set future. He knew how this went. He was going to see the worst possible outcomes, and then he would be able to fix them. Sam wasn’t going to turn into a Stark lackey. He wasn’t going to turn into a miniature version of James. That’s the thought that bothered him the most, which was fucked. There was nothing wrong with him, focus was a good thing. It just wasn’t Sam. He was warm and caring and fucking good. He couldn’t be that mindless smarmy robot in that office up there. James was thinking so hard he jumped when Juniper went through him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was in his warehouse, but inventory was being moved out instead of the constant flow of intake and outtake. He could be doing that well, but he wasn’t. James moved through the building. Everywhere he looked items were being cleared out. Juniper was directing freight while Dugan was loading trucks. As he moved upstairs, he watched Gabe pace in the CFO’s office on the phone. James knew the kid had it in him. He just had to stop slacking off with the Commandos. As James walked further down the executive suite, he noticed paintings and furniture were being moved and boxed up. A part of him wanted to believe he was getting a bigger office space, but spying Justin Hammer in his boardroom meant he was being bought out and chopped up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What’s worse was Becca’s tear stained face as she signed paperwork. My God what had time done to his once hauntingly beautiful mother? Her hair was white and thinning, and even sitting she was stooped over. Barnes peered through the glass at Todd. He had his claw of a hand on Becca’s shoulder. James could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. James stormed into the room ready to yank the man away from his sister, but his hand went right through the yahoo’s arm. Oh right, dream, James thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should we be doing this?” Becca asked, looking at Winifred. “What’s going to happen to all the people who work here-Gabe, Dugan, Juniper, and poor Steve?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ll find other work, dear. I’m too old, and you have your own life. We can’t run the company,” Winifred replied. Her voice was just as creaky as she looked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Winifred is right, Babe. You don’t know the first thing about business,” Todd said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus Fucking Christ! Why is she still with this dickwad? Becca could do anything she put her mind to, and why was he even in the room? This had nothing to do with him, James thought.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I don’t, but Steve does and Gabe. We could make them partners. I think that’s what Bucky would want,” Becca suggested. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James watched Todd glance at Hammer. “You got to be fucking kidding me. He sold Becca out to this snake,” James said to the ghost</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Partners?” Todd scoffed. “Baby, you’re too sweet for your own good.” This asshole actually patted his sister on her head like she was a fucking dog. If ghost Stark was right, and he had inadvertently taught her this was love, he should kick his own ass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You listen to Todd, sweetheart. He says Mr. Hammer is going to give us a good deal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s going to rob them blind, and my feckless mother and that idiot is going to help him,” James groused.  “I guess I’m dead. I better be dead because this is bullshit,” Bucky said, turning to the spirit. He stood, glaring out of the window. Bucky turned back to Steve and Peggy at a gravestone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>-o0o-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, at least Steve looked good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, James thought blinking at the scene before him. Steve was in a nice suit and had a decent haircut. He also had flowers in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barnes was so over this scrooge shit. This is the part where he realizes he’s the dead guy no one gives a shit about, and then he’s trapped in the tomb or cremated alive, begging for life, and then finally he gets the opportunity to change things, starting with giving Todd a piece of his mind and checking on Mrs. Rogers and calling the real estate agency. At least they could have sprung for a nicer headstone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would take care of that too. His cousin had an estate planning business. He hoped they didn’t put Bucky on it like he’s some yokel. When Steve leaned down and put flowers on the grave. James froze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe she’s been gone 7 years,” Steve said, tearing up. “And on Christmas...She loved Christmas,” Steve said, breaking down. Peggy pulled him into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait wait wait. What does he mean Christmas? Are you saying Mrs. Rogers dies tomorrow?” James said, looking at his watch. “Today!” He walked over to the spirit of Christmas Yet to Come. “You have to take me back. Look, I can do better. I will do better, but listen, pal. You have to take me back.” The spirit wouldn’t move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Steve said, pulling away from Peggy. He looked embarrassed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be silly, Steven,” Peggy chastised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for coming today. I don’t want to keep you from your big day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, do shut up, you’ll make me more nervous than I already am,” Peggy said, smiling. She took out a handkerchief and wiped the last of Steve’s tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, Peg? What parents wouldn’t want you for their daughter-in-law?” Steve returned. James watched his best friend glance down at his Ma’s grave. Sarah Rogers loved Peg. Everyone loved Peg.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you’re right. Daniel seems to be a bit of a mummy’s boy.” Peggy said, putting away the cloth and glancing at her watch. “I still have some time before I meet them for dinner. Do you want me to go with you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Steve shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he said, putting on a brave face. It wasn’t very convincing. Peggy watched him a moment, like she wanted to protest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, she decided against it. “Well then, I better be off. Happy Christmas, Steve,” Peggy said, kissing him on the cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas, Peg,” Steve said, waving as she made her way over to a car. She had a driver. Made sense, Peggy must be big-time at her firm by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you telling me?” James paused. “That he never sealed that deal. How much shit do I have to do, Spirit?” James asked his host. The man was sitting on a bench staring off into the distance. He looked...well he looked like he was out of it. “Okay, I’ve got my to-do list, an action plan. We’re wasting precious time,” James griped, looking at his watch again. He walked over to the man and snapped and clapped in front of his face. “Hello!” He yelled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barnes watched the wraith rise from the stone bench he was on. “Finally,” he muttered. The man grabbed him by the shoulders and head-butted him. James' head exploded in pain. He thinks he may have even blacked out. When he opened his eyes, he was back at the hospital, but maybe on a different floor? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh God, who's sick now?</span>
  </em>
  <span> James thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was for sure. His stomach felt a little queasy. Was his nose bleeding? It felt like it should be- </span>
  <em>
    <span>that sneaky asshole</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His vision took a moment to clear. When it finally did, he had to admit he was relieved seeing Sam at the end of the hallway talking to a nurse or doctor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least, it wasn’t Sam, h</span>
  </em>
  <span>e thought. James sneered at the ghost beside him. He turned to tackle him, but he phased through, and ran into the wall. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh well, isn’t that just great</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Barnes glared at the ghost, but the spirit was back in his own world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James decided to look around a little bit more. This place was weird- quiet. All the doors had locks on them. James moved closer to Sam, but when his ex went still, staring at something behind James, he turned, and Steve was marching down the hall towards the three men.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He, Sam and Steve used to be three peas in a pod. Sometimes they got along better than James with either of them. If Steve liked cock, he would have been worried, but Peggy had his nose wide open. They had a lot of fun together along with the Commandos and Peg and her group of friends, but they had to grow up. James got busy at work. Sam was a shooting star at the VA, and then he left him. James was so wrapped up in his hurt that he just realized Sam broke up with them too. Well, except for maybe, Misty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Steve growled at Sam. He turned to the doctor. “He shouldn’t have any access to records or the care being provided,” Steve said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not your decision, man,” Sam said, calmly. “Becca-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll talk to Becca.” Steve said, cutting Sam off without looking at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do that,” Sam said, moving around Steve. The doctor took this as an opportunity to leave also. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was halfway down the hall when Steve said, “I don’t even know why you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam spun around pissed, “Not that it’s any of your business, but Becca asked me to consult.” It was rare, but when Sammy got mad, you better take cover.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you should have said no,” Steve replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you, dude. You're not the only one who loved him,” Sam said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You loved him? You left him, and he was never the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe, I should have stayed and watched him turn into an obsessive maniac. Just let him lie to me and himself and everyone around him. Maybe if I walked on eggshells and gave into his every whim, we wouldn’t be here right now. Oh wait, you did all of that, and he’s still here. He’s mentally ill. He’s been mentally ill, and guess what, I am too. I couldn’t stay and watch him spiral again.”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you just left us to do it,” Steve sneered. “It’s a lie anyway. Misty and Becca tell you everything. You got to be there without having to be there. And lo and behold, you’re here, on Christmas Eve after all these years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're here too,” Sam returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone has to be, and I didn’t leave my spouse at home, pal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, because you don’t have a spouse because you just let the love of your life get engaged to another man,” Sam snarked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Geez, Sammy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, James thought. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t let her do anything,” Steve growled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord, you two share the same brain, don’t you?” Sam asked. “I was there man, she would’ve taken you in a heartbeat. If you just would have asked,” Sam said, leaning against the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that mean?” James asked his ex annoyed. When Dream Sam didn’t answer him, he turned to Steve hoping he would get some answers.  Steve just stared off in the distance. James and Sam watched helplessly as Steve dealt with his heartbreak. Sam shifted, but inch closer to his former friend. He stood by him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment Steve spoke up, “What didn’t he ask you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter,” Sam said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t give into his every whim,” Steve defended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t ruin his childhood and steal his arm,” Sam replied. He faced Steve head on and looked him in the eyes. “But I did walk away from more than Bucky that day, and I should have reached out, even if it was just to say goodbye. It’s just...you were his best friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s bullshit. We all were friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know he loved you like a brother. He needed you more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the problem with both of you assholes. You're so wrapped up in one another, and then the loss of one another, that you never think about what other people need. What did Becca need? The Commandos? The twins? Skai? and yes, Steve?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was taken aback. James watched his ex experience the same ten emotions he was going through hearing Steve’s truth, but Sam dealt with his issues with constant practice, and it showed. James witnessed him swallow pride and accept what Steve was saying, “That’s fair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. What’s not fair is me blaming you for Bucky’s issues,” Steve said, turning to the window before him. Sam did the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James was so invested in their conversation that he didn’t look over into the window of the room they were standing in front of until they did. It was he, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. He sat on a bed. His arms restrained. His mouth covered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” James uttered, looking at the older version of himself. There were cuts on his face. He read over the door chart. </span>
  <b>VIOLENT, head-butting and biting</b>
  <span> was spelled out in bold letters. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bucky Thought. He took his meds. Okay, he was late on his therapy sessions, and inwardly focused, but he exercised. He ate right. He was sleeping more. Bucky peered at the man, his hair lank and greasy. His arm gears were whirring as he tried to get free. “No, not this, anything, but this. I’m going to do better. I’m going change,” James said, looking around for the guide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to change,” he screamed at the ceiling, his arm whirring, trying to break free of the restraints on the metal bed. Tears leaked from his eyes as he fought. He looked over to Sam and Steve. “I’ll change,” He screamed, but it was muffled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both looked devastated, watching the shell of the man they both knew and loved lose his mind. The doctor appeared in the window behind them. His room door was being unlocked. Two burly men rushed into the room with a needle. Steve shook his head and walked away. Sam stood, stone-faced in the window, crying silently. “I’ll change,” he slurred as the drugs started to take over. Sam turned. “Noooooo Sam, please stay,” Bucky whispered. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Are You Bucky?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's a Christmas miracle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve stood staring at orange digits. He pressed the up button two more times. The numbers over the doors mocked him as they paused on each floor. The nurse beside him glanced in his direction more than once, but he didn’t care. With a ping the metal doors rolled open, and he climbed aboard before the tired staff inside could depart. He pressed the '3' button with the same anxious vigor. The nurse went to press the two, but thought better of it at the last minute, and pressed ‘close door’.</p><p>“Thank you,” Steve breathed out.</p><p>“No problem, it's Christmas,” The nurse said into her coffee cup. </p><p>It was six in the morning, and Steve had got a call to get his ass to the hospital as soon as possible. After the scare, Steve and the doctors made plans to try a less expensive procedure that might buy more time, but then he got the call in the middle of painting an older couple’s beloved cat. Steve rushed out of the elevator over to the desk. Two nurses were laughing, clearly in the Christmas spirit if the reindeer antlers and Santa hat was any sign.</p><p>“Excuse me, my name is Steve Rogers. Nurse Juarez called,” Steve rambled out.</p><p>“Yes, Mr. Rogers,” a dark skin nurse said, her Caribbean accent curling around the words. She wore a purple sparkling Santa hat, a blinking fairy light necklace, and a brilliant smile. “Ms. Sarah is being prepped for surgery. We just need you to sign the forms,” she said, smiling, placing the clipboard on the counter. “We’re so happy,” she sang.</p><p>“It’s a Christmas miracle,” the other auburn-headed nurse said, playing with her cross-her antlers eschew.</p><p>Steve took in their expressions, calming down a fraction, but he was still confused. “Surgery now? I thought it was scheduled for noon?” Steve took the clipboard, looking at the same forms he had filled out last night.</p><p>“That’s when Dr. Foster was doing the surgery. Dr. Strange is doing it now. He likes to work in the mornings. Her surgery is scheduled for 8:00am,” Santa nurse supplied.</p><p>“Dr. Strange? I haven’t met him. Is he any good? Does he know her case?” Steve asked, worried. Why wasn’t Dr. Foster doing it? Steve knew Dr. Foster-talked to her.</p><p>“He’s the best surgeon in the country,” Reindeer nurse assured.</p><p>“Okay?” Steve breathed. “Do I need to do all new forms for the excision?”</p><p>“Excision?” The Caribbean nurse said. “No, he’s going to do the complete reconstruction and insert the valve.”</p><p>“I didn’t sign off on that. I can’t afford-” Steve stammered.</p><p>“Your bill has been paid in full. Leti said she called you and left a message,” She explained.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’ve been working all night. I just heard get to the hospital and ran out the door. Who paid the bill?”</p><p>“I did,” Bucky said, coming out of the waiting room. Steve’s eyes popped open. Bucky was wearing jeans, sneakers, and an old sweatshirt. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He had stubble. His usually artfully styled hair was stuffed into a bun under a Yankees cap. “I deal with you later, but right now, shut the fuck up and sign the fucking forms.” </p><p>Steve’s face scrunched up as he tried to fight back tears. He nodded, and started filling in the new forms. When he finally handed them over to the nurse, the dam broke and he pulled Bucky into a hug.</p><p>“Thank you,” he whispered. Bucky hugged him back, sniffling.</p><p>“You don’t have to thank me, Pal. She raised me too. I’m so pissed at you, but right now, you need to go be with your Ma.” </p><p>“You should come to,” Steve said, grabbing his arm. </p><p>“Nah, I got some things I need to take care of, but I texted-” Bucky began. The door pinged. “Right on time,” Bucky said, looking at the woman impeccably dressed at the ass crack of dawn. “Peg’s going to stay with you. I’ll be back when Mrs. Rogers comes out of surgery,” He said to Steve. He turned to the brunette. “Thanks for getting up. At a drop of notice. On Christmas morning. To come sit in a waiting room for hours. To support Stevie,” Bucky emphasized.</p><p>“Hey, I’m standing right here,” Steve said, sniffling.</p><p>Peggy batted her eyelashes at Bucky. “Anything for a friend,” she responded.</p><p>“You must be some kind of friend,” Bucky said to Steve, wagging his eyebrows. Steve turned red. “Go see about your Ma. Thanks, Peg.”</p><p>“Thank you, Bucky, and Happy Christmas,” She said, kissing him on the cheek.</p><p> Bucky blushed. He always did like getting kissed by pretty girls, “Merry Christmas.”</p><p>-o0o-</p><p>Becca lay in the bed thinking about how crummy her Christmas was turning out. Her mother wanted her to visit, but she didn’t feel like going to the hunting club on Christmas, not after last night. She had her fill of these trust fund babies looking down on her. Todd said she was overreacting, but she didn’t care. Ever since she got a promotion at work he’s been snide. He seemed perfect when her mother introduced them at the club, but now he was really ticking her off.  She wasn’t her stepsister. She was working at fourteen not buying thousand-dollar handbags. She didn’t want to shop, Peloton, and browse goop all day. She wanted to design and build shit. </p><p>She used to dream of being like Barbie, and having a dream house and a guy that looked just like Ken. Be careful what you wish for. She had an expensive brownstone, the wannabe Ken, but she wasn’t Barbie and didn’t want to be. She was starting to miss the old days, bugging her big brothers and hanging with the Commandos and Tara. She wasn’t an idiot or baby. She knew Bucky was pulling away. She just refused to let him. They had a rough life, but it got better, mainly because of him, and Buck found his happy ending, and then just let it fade away. Stupid boys. He wasn’t getting rid of her that easy, neither was Sam. </p><p>Bucky literally gave an arm to put food on their table. She wasn’t going to let him die miserable and alone no matter how much it seemed like he wanted to. And Sam had dated numerous good guys, but they were never good enough. You would think the esteemed Dr. Samuel T. Wilson, the Director of the New York State VA and the American Psychological Association’s Humanitarian of the Year, could figure out why no one was ever good enough.  </p><p>She started when she heard a noise downstairs. She listened closely, her heart speeding. The regular sounds of her house murmured back at her. She knew for a fact Todd was in Southampton. The idiot actually tried to sext with her after making her look like a fool in front of her colleagues. Another rumbling came from the bottom floor. She jumped up quietly. Her mother said she needed an alarm, but she was from Bed-Stuy. A couple of degrees and newly well-off family members wasn’t going to change that. Becca crept downstairs, her gun pointed away from her body and towards the floor.</p><p>She took a deep breath, rounded the corner, and raised her Glock. “Merry Christmas, GI Jane. You want two eggs or one?” Bucky said, cracking eggs into a bowl.  Her brother stood in her kitchen in a tattered hoodie and a red and green Yankees cap.</p><p>“Bucky, what the hell?” Becca screamed.</p><p>“I’m making Christmas waffles,” he returned, sprinkling salt in a bowl. It was a tradition they started when he came home from the desert. They could finally afford a waffle iron and name brand flour. There was a packet of bacon and a juice on the counter along with Reddi-Wip, berries, the biggest grapefruit Becca had ever seen, and, of course, plums.</p><p>“My favorite,” Becca said, overcome with joy. She cried when she was happy too. </p><p>“I know. I felt bad about missing your thing,” her big brother admitted.</p><p>“You should,” Becca said, putting the safety back on. She placed the gun in a nearby drawer and walked over to the counter. She put away the juice and pulled out a knife and cutting board to cut the grapefruit. </p><p>“Nice piece. Don’t forget that’s in there,” Bucky nagged. Becca rolled her eyes, but bumped him with her shoulder. “It’s true you know. I always feel bad when I can’t make it, but that’s no excuse. I’m going to try to do better...I got you a present.”</p><p>“A present? You already sent me a Baby Yoda,” Becca said.</p><p>“A what?” Bucky asked. “Yoga? Beck, are you turning into one of those frou frou girls?”</p><p>“Frou frou girls, are you kidding me? You're such a hypocrite. Calista, Sadie, and Francine were the definition of Frou Frou girls. That didn’t stop you from screwing every single one of them. AND doing Yoga doesn’t make you frou frou. Yoga is part of an Asian spiritual belief system that has been culturally appropriated and commoditized. And it’s Yoda, Grogu to be exact.”</p><p>“Is that some of your nerd Star Trek stuff?” Bucky said, searching through Becca’s cabinets for a frying pan. </p><p>She walked over and opened the correct cabinet. “It’s Star Wars, and don’t act like you didn’t watch and enjoy DS9 with-” Becca paused.</p><p>“Sam,” Bucky said, eyeing his sister. She looked back, pleasantly surprised. Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m joking. I know who Baby Yoda is. I didn’t get you that gift, Steve did.”</p><p>“Duh, but with your money,” Becca tried.</p><p>“That’s not the part that counts,” Bucky said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead.</p><p>“Okay? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”</p><p>“I’m right here, Kid. With your present,” he said, putting a taped-up Morton Williams bag on her kitchen island. There was a squished lopsided bow on top of it.</p><p>“Nice wrapping,” she snarked.</p><p>“It was a little last minute,” Bucky admitted. </p><p>“I get to keep the Yoda, right?”</p><p>“Yes,” Bucky said.</p><p>Becca took out her scissors from her junk draw, and cut into the tape. She was excited. She reached into the now destroyed paper and pulled out three books: <em> The Ultimate New York Yankees Trivia Book, Miracles in Moments in New York Yankees History, and New York Times Story of the Yankees </em>. Becca pondered the books for a moment. “I’m sensing a theme, but it’s funny. Last night, I got a Yankees trivia question that I missed by a hair.”</p><p>“You don’t say,” Bucky said, going back to his waffle batter.</p><p>“Yeah, I mixed up the score,” Becca said, flipping through the books in wonder.</p><p>“Now, you won’t do that,” Bucky said, smiling. Becca narrowed her eyes at her brother. Who was in an extraordinarily good mood. </p><p>She sobered. “Hey, Are you-”</p><p>“I’m taking my meds. I have an appointment with my therapist on Tuesday, and a sleep therapist in two weeks. Who knows? Maybe, I’ll take up yoga,” Bucky joked. </p><p>“Har Har Har, and I’m glad to hear you're taking care of yourself. Thanks for these,” Becca said.</p><p>“No problem. We’ll get good use out of them when we're in the skybox I just bought for you, Steve, the Commandos, and me. We got season tickets so clear your calendar.”</p><p>“Are you serious?” Becca asked, smiling. She pulled her brother into a tight hug, and then pulled away, looking him in the eyes. He looked back, clear eyed. “You’re on your meds?”</p><p>“Yes,” Bucky nodded. </p><p>“Bucky?” Becca said, seriously.</p><p>“I swear to you, I am fine, and following the plan,” Bucky assured, setting the pan on the stove and beginning the bacon. Becca sighed and let him go. She couldn’t help the tear that slid down her cheeks. She picked up one of the books again. “There is a problem,” He added when she had just about moved on.</p><p>“What problem?” Becca asked, her eyes scrunching.</p><p>Bucky grimaced. “Well, if I invite Steve, I have to invite Peg, and Peg comes with Angie and Misty, and the Commandos come with Benita, Betty, and Tara. And then there’s Clint and Tash.”</p><p>“Okay?” Becca said, not seeing the problem.</p><p>“And you know sometimes, I like to entertain a dame or two, maybe even a fella,” Bucky continued.</p><p>“What are you getting at schmuck?” Becca asked.</p><p>“I don’t know if we have room for Todd.”</p><p>“Oh,” Becca dismissed. She went back to her books. Bucky watched her closely.  “I don’t think Todd even likes baseball,” Becca informed, moving the books on the banquet, so they wouldn’t get messed up.</p><p>“He doesn’t like Baseball! What kind of fella are you shackin’ up with, Becca?”</p><p>“He’s smart,” Becca shrugged. She turned away from her brother to start to clear away some of the dirty utensils. “Wait...a dame or two?” She turned back to him.</p><p>Bucky shrugged back at her. “Okay, where’s your waffle iron?”</p><p>“I don’t have a waffle iron,” Becca said, biting her lip.</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>She grimaced, and then they both laughed their asses off. “Christmas pancakes?”</p><p>“I guess fucking so,” Bucky snorted.</p><p>-o0o-</p><p>After breakfast, Becca let Bucky open his gift. It was piano lessons. Of course, he shot his mouth off until she revealed the baby grand that would be delivered after the holidays. Mr. Du Bois across the hall used to show him a few things on his beat up upright on the weekends, but he died of a heroin overdose when Bucky was fifteen. Bucky never went back to it, but Becca knew how much he loved it and Big Band music. It was a beautiful gift, and he was proud of himself for not crying.</p><p>That didn’t last long. While Becca was getting dressed, he thought up a few ideas for work and needed some paper and pen, so he walked into Becca’s office. When he finished he turned to go and saw the Margie doll he had gifted her all those years ago proudly displayed on her shelf. The clothes were in tatters. The plastic hair was falling out. Her face was mushed a bit. It was a beautiful sight.</p><p>The tears didn’t stop. Becca and Bucky went to see their Ma, and she insisted on coming with them to see Sarah Rogers. To say he was moved was an understatement. Bucky and the husband even acknowledged one another for two minutes while they waited for Winifred to be “presentable”. Becca’s stepsister and her family seemed nice enough. </p><p>His mother loved jewelry, so he got her some antique jeweled hair combs to pin up her waves of thick black hair. She came down stairs in bedazzled jeans and a flowered hoodie to match the casual attire of her children. She had one of her new combs in her hair and the watch Becca had gifted her on her wrist.</p><p>“I’ll be back in time to go to the club,” Winifred said, kissing her husband. “Don’t rush. You know I’ll wait.”</p><p>“Bye Grammy,” a redheaded little girl said, walking up to hug Winifred.</p><p>“Bye baby, Grammy will be home in time to go see Santa,” Winifred explained, hugging and kissing her. </p><p>The little girl skipped to Bucky. “Bye Uncle Bucky,” she said, hugging his legs. Bucky ruffled her hair. The last time he had heard that it was from another little girl with cornrows instead of auburn curls almost a decade ago.</p><p>“Bye, Kiddo.” Bucky said, his voice hoarse.</p><p>It would stay that way for the rest of the day due to laughter and tears. When they walked into the private waiting room on the 10th floor, the conversation died down. Everyone was here. Juniper and Tara, Jones and Benita, Dugan and Betty, Natasha and Clint, Misty and some dude with flip-flops on in 20-degree weather, Angie, Arwan, Peggy, and Steve.</p><p>“Merry Christmas, Everyone! We brought Chinese,” Becca said, holding up her bag loaded down with food. Bucky could see someone had brought coffee and bagels earlier.</p><p>“Hey Becca,” Steve said, teary-eyed. He got up and hugged her. Peggy, Angie, and Misty took her bags, Bucky’s, and Winifred’s, and started setting up a buffet line.</p><p>“Mrs. Balan?” Steve said, hugging Winifred next. </p><p>“Sarah was always good to my Jimmy and Rebekah. I had to come,” She said, patting his hand.</p><p>While Steve was occupied, Bucky saddled over to Peg. “What’s the latest?”</p><p>“The surgeon is a real ass, but he seemed to be confident everything was going smoothly. The nurse said it should be another hour.”</p><p>“Good,” Bucky said, watching Becca hug everyone in the room with a smile, and spazz out when she got to Juniper.”</p><p>“How long has that been going on?” Bucky asked Peggy.</p><p>“When has it not gone on?” Peggy returned. She turned to Steve. “Steve, are you hungry?”</p><p>“No, I don’t think I can eat,” Steve answered.</p><p>“Have you eaten anything?” Bucky asked. </p><p>“No, not since-” Steve tried to explain.</p><p>Bucky turned and grabbed a plate. He plopped an egg roll and fried rice on it. He added some dumplings and some General Tso chicken, and handed the plate to Steve. Steve sighed, but sat down to eat. He devoured everything on his plate. Bucky shook his head.</p><p>“I brought enough for everyone,” he announced to the room. They all just blinked up at him like he had three heads or something.</p><p>“Excuse me,” Clint said to Bucky. Natasha smirked beside him.</p><p>“Yeah?” Bucky returned.</p><p>“Who the hell are you?” Clint asked while everyone snickered</p><p>“And you jokers wonder why I don’t do stuff like this more often,” Bucky responded.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Sarge, but I got to ask,” Dugan said, seriously.</p><p>“Yes, I’m on my meds. Y’all going to eat or should I offer the food to the nurses.”</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Juniper said, hopping up. Clint was on his heels. Gabe clapped Bucky on his back and went to grab a plate. </p><p>Dugan stood and hugged Bucky. He whispered, “He needed this. We all did.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. Me too. I’m sorry I went AWOL,” Bucky said. Dugan looked him in his eyes, Bucky knew he was trying to figure out if this was just a fluke. </p><p>Dugan was always the optimist. “Welcome back, Sarge.” Barnes wished everyone were that easy.</p><p>Misty was standing beside Bucky waiting to get food. “So, when Peggy called me this morning, I did some digging. He’s the best surgeon in the country, arguably the world. He didn’t book his flight from his mother’s house until 4:55am after he got a large fund transfer into his personal account. He was on leave at work. He had just flown out to Chicago yesterday morning.”</p><p>“You don’t like me, do you?” Bucky asked, looking Misty in the eye.</p><p>She pursed her lips, but Misty was never afraid to tell you what she was thinking. “The jury’s still out, but lately, it ain’t been looking too good.” </p><p>Bucky nodded, “Are you spying for Peggy or Sam?”</p><p>Her mouth fell open and then formed into a hard line, “What?” </p><p>“I just hope you’re being fair and reporting the good and the bad,” Bucky explained.</p><p>“Until today there hasn’t been a lot of good to report,” Misty replied.</p><p>“True, but that’s going to change.”</p><p>Misty chuckled. “If I had a penny for every time some man told me that.”</p><p>“I’m going to prove you wrong.”</p><p>“Okay?” Misty shrugged. “I hope so,” she said, grabbing a dumpling and some broccoli in garlic sauce. </p><p>“And I‘m starting now,” Bucky added, turning to his friends. “Hey guys, I was thinking this morning, and I have come up with some things I would like to institute at work.”</p><p>Groans went out all over the room. “I knew it was too good to be true,” Gabe said, biting into an eggroll. Benita snorted forking a piece of chicken.</p><p>“Last night, I went through something, and it made me realize that I needed to change some things,” Bucky admitted.</p><p>“You okay, Sarge?” Juniper asked.</p><p>“I’m fine, now. I plan on raising everyone’s salary at the company to a living wage. Providing in house affordable daycare. Instituting paid family leave, extending vacation leave by two weeks at every tier, and celebrating and appreciating our employees. Thanks to Cratchit, everyone’s Christmas bonus should be hitting their accounts tomorrow,” Bucky said. He watched as his employee-friends sat speechless. He continued, “Gabe, you’re going into our newly minted executive training program. You will shadow me and get a raise and your own office.” Benita shrieked as Juniper punched his best friend in the arm. “I’m raising the rest of your salaries by 20%,” Bucky said. Tara gasped. Arwan and Clint high-fived. “And finally, Steve, you’re fired,” Bucky said.</p><p>Everyone laughed. Bucky laughed with them for a minute but said, “No, I’m not kidding, you're fired,” Bucky said, looking at his lifelong friend.</p><p>“What?” Steve said, aghast.</p><p>“Dude?” Clint exclaimed.</p><p>“Well, that lasted two seconds,” Misty muttered.</p><p>“Jimmy, what are you talking about?” Winifred scolded.</p><p>“Alright!” Bucky said, waving down the forming mob. He turned to Steve, “You're too talented to be wasting your time wiping my ass all day. So, I am awarding you the first ever Steven G. Rogers Grant from White Wolf Corp.”</p><p>“Well, I’ll be damned,” Misty exclaimed. Bucky winked at her. </p><p>“I will fund your art career until it takes off again. And I am asking you, Pepper, and Peggy to serve on the grant board so we can give smaller awards to other artists, and eventually choose your successor.”</p><p>“Buck, you already done so much. I can’t possibly,” Steve stammered.</p><p>“Shut up, Steve!” Angie exclaimed. </p><p>“Steve, don’t be ridiculous,” Peggy chastised.</p><p>“Boy, you better take that money,” Benita chimed. </p><p>“Don’t be an idiot, Steve,” Natasha said. </p><p>“I-” Steve started, but stopped when Strange walked in. He gulped, “Is she okay?”</p><p>“The surgery went perfect. Dr. Foster will monitor her closely, and keep in contact with me over the next six months to make sure everything is healing fine. The nurse will inform you when she is ready for visitors, one at a time. If you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch,” Strange said. </p><p>“Thanks, Doc,” Bucky said, shaking the man’s hands. </p><p>“Are you Bucky?” Strange said.</p><p>“Yeah." </p><p>“Do you know a Jim Morita?”</p><p>“He’s our old army captain,” Bucky said smiling, glancing at the Commandos.</p><p>“He’s also my surgery RN. He says to call him, asshole.” </p><p>Bucky smiled. “I’ll do that.”</p><p>“Alright, Merry Christmas.”</p><p>“Merry Christmas,” Bucky said, overwhelmed with joy and relief. He looked around the room at his friends and family celebrating, the fellas joking about old times, Clint and Natasha snuggled in together, Misty and Angie giggling, Peggy combing through Steve’s hair with her fingers and turning down his wrinkled collar so he could look good for his Ma. It was almost perfect.</p><p>“Buck, you forgot to tell them,” Becca said. Her and Winifred were cleaning the room up a bit. </p><p>“Tell us what?” Gabe asked.</p><p>“What else is there? I mean, I could use a new truck,” Dugan joked. </p><p>“I don’t know that I can handle anymore,” Steve interjected. </p><p>“Shut up, Steve!” The group chimed. </p><p>“I brought us a skybox for the Yankees,” Bucky said. He chuckled watching his friends lose their shit. Peggy and Misty were a little mystified at their behavior. “Everyone’s invited. Ma, bring the husband too.” </p><p>“So, Todd-” Becca tried to point out. </p><p>“No,” Bucky said, sitting down by Dugan and Arwan as the men looked up the game schedule on their phones.  </p><p>Everything went quiet when the door opened again. “Steve, she’s awake,” Leti said, smiling. “She’s asking for you.” Everyone was either wiping at their eyes or beaming up at Steve. Yeah, this was Christmas.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Good Neighbor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bucky gets closure.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was dark when Bucky made it back to his townhouse. He had to drop his Ma off, and then Becca, and then head back to the hospital. Peggy was going to stay with Steve. He ordered them dinner, said hello to Mrs. Rogers, and had gift cards delivered to the nurses and doctors who took such good care of her. He was alone now, but the laughter and joy ringing in his ears kept him company. His good mood came to a screeching stop when he saw the 1948 Ford F1 sitting outside his house. It was Paul Wilson’s pride and joy, well, maybe, after the man who was sitting inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky pulled to the curb and turned off the engine of his Range Rover. He sat there a minute trying to debate what to do. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This was a cliff I could jump off of or walk away from</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bucky thought. Bucky smirked at the analogy. Sam used to be one hell of a pararescueman. He had the medals to prove it and the skills to catch Bucky if he fell, if he wanted, if Bucky wanted. Sam could be here to push him off the cliff. He would never know sitting in the car. He needed to get out before he and Sam both froze to death, so he did. He walked up to his stoop, pretending not to see the canary yellow truck in front of his door. He waited for the inevitable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas,” Sam said behind him. When Bucky turned, he was rubbing his hands together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas,” Bucky said. “How are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. How are you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked good, Bucky thought. “Great. Out for a Christmas drive?” Bucky asked. Paul let Sam drive the truck two times a year-on Christmas and his birthday. Bucky tried to give him a blow job one birthday drive, and Sam almost crashed. Paul was psychic because when they came back he examined that truck from bumper to tail pipe. Bucky made it up to Sam when they got home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, and there’s the fact that Becca called, and then Misty called, and then Dugan called,” Sam said, putting his hands in his pockets. He watched him like he was waiting for Bucky to flip out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay?” Bucky replied in stride. So, it was an intervention of one-the one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And then Steve called,” Sam added. He knew their relationship had grown sour, but he never realized just how much, for Steve to call Sam... had he really been that bad all these years? He already knew the answer to that. He must have really thrown them for a loop today. It would be funny if it didn’t lead to this terrifying moment. For the first time in a long time, Bucky was unsure of what to do. So, he went with what was easiest before even thinking about it, “I have a psychiatrist and psychologist. Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam ignored his snark, “They're not the real reason I’m here. They were suspicious, but hopeful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay?” Bucky said, confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you even remember calling me last night?” Sam asked. He looked genuinely concerned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I took a pill,” Bucky admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What pill?” Sam asked, stepping on his bottom step. God, he was looking at Bucky like this was the most important thing in the world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A medically prescribed pill that I thought I needed. It made me loopy, but that’s not the point. I’m fine,” Bucky defended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t sound fine last night, Buck, and apparently, you’re behaving way out of character today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam, I haven’t spoken to you in years. You just can’t show up at my home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but you can just show up at my job every once in a while. To what...stalk me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t stalking you. Most people leave the office before nine o’ clock. I have memories in that building too. I’m a vet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Man. I just need to ask. Is everything okay, Bucky?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m good, thanks, just trying to turn over a new leaf. You have a Merry Christmas,” Bucky said, pissed. This is not what he wanted, but he didn’t know how to fix the mountains of hurt and all the remorse he felt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas,” Sam muttered, going back over to his father’s truck. Bucky watched him go around and open the door, but he slammed it a second later, and stormed back around the truck.  “You know what, no!” Sam exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No?” Bucky said, surprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sounded like you were out of your goddamn mind, but you said shit that I need some clarification on. I Googled same sex DNA. White Wolf Corp is listed as a majority sponsor of that research.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So!” Sam chuckled. “Do you own our block in Brooklyn?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I own a block in Brooklyn,” Bucky replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was my ring made of vibranium?” Sam asked, his brow quirked. He was getting angrier with every question he asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky wasn’t too happy either, “The ring you gave back? Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t you?” Sam paused confused. “You know what, never mind. You’re an asshole, Merry Christmas,” Sam said, going over to the truck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m the asshole. Who left me brokenhearted on Christmas Eve?” Bucky accused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The man who wasn’t taking his meds and lying to me on what turns out to be several fronts,” Sam volleyed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Xavier's front door opened. The old man wheeled to the entry. “James, remember when I said you were a good neighbor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Charles,” Bucky said, glaring at Sam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not being one right now. And, we have to get up early to take Eric’s son to the airport.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry. I’m leaving,” Sam said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll keep it down,” Bucky assured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, and take it from me, if you're still fighting this passionately with one another, after what I assume from your very loud conversation is a number of years, anger might not be the only thing you're holding on to. Good night and Merry Christmas,” Charles said, closing his door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas, Charles,” Bucky returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m happy you’re changing some things, Merry Christmas,” Sam whispered, backing away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I never got closure, and I’ve been miserable. If you're really worried about me, we need to move past this, so we can get on with our individual lives,” Bucky said, pressing the button on his phone to unlock the front door. He held the door open for Sam. “Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam exhaled, but climbed the stairs. He knocked off his boots before stepping into Bucky’s immaculate home. He shut the front door behind him. Bucky just realized he had on gray sweatpants and crisp white tee under his leather jacket. Bucky took a moment to breathe and went to light the fireplace. It was freezing in here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t decorate for the holidays?” Sam asked, looking around his spartan home. Bucky looked around too. The space looked like it came out of a furniture catalog, not an actual home that people lived in. He hadn’t really cared before, but now he couldn’t help remembering the colorful and comfortable home that he and Sam built.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like I said Christmas hasn’t been the same for me,” Bucky said, going into his kitchen, grabbing two waters out of the fridge and setting them on the coffee table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Truthfully, it hasn’t been a walk in the park for me either,” Sam said, sitting on the massive gray couch. “I’m surprised Becca didn’t hound you though. Sarah and the kids, mostly Skai, got my place looking like Santa’s workshop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beck has grown up. She’s been doing her own thing for a while, I mean she still tries, but she’s pretty busy herself, but we’ve made plans for the New Year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s great, Buck,” Sam returned, his hands rubbing on his knees. He was nervous. Bucky too, but it was time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for lying by omission. I shouldn’t have gone off my meds, and I know I have a difficult relationship with money that I’m still working on. You were my partner, and I should have treated you that way, instead of hiding major decisions about our lives,” Bucky admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for saying that, and I accept your apology,” Sam said. He smiled warmly at Bucky. Bucky nodded back, waiting for Sam to say something more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment Bucky prompted, “Your turn”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s my turn?” Sam asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you sorry for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! I’m sorry we couldn’t remain friends,” Sam said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, what else-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How bout you're sorry for spying on me for a decade?” Bucky hissed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your neighbors…” Sam snapped back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The house is sound proof. Night terrors,” Bucky explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was not spying on you. I can’t help if people tell me stuff,” Sam said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you tell them to stop? You’re the one who left me. You could have known anything you wanted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think I wanted to leave, Bucky? It hurt me, too. I was lost without you, and I felt guilty, but I could not stay. It took me a while to work through that, so I don’t need the fucking guilt trip, now. And I wouldn’t have left, if I had all the information. And you decided it wasn’t important enough for you to tell me. So, looking back, it seems like I made the right decision,” Sam said, folding his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck you. You act like I was stealing or cheating. I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted it to be-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect? How many times have we talked about that word, argued over your astronomical expectations and the pressure you put on yourself. I thought you were perfect without all of this,” Sam said, gesturing around Bucky’s Instagram ready house. “I didn’t need a fairy tale wedding, the right address or a vibranium ring. I just needed you,” Sam said. They glared at one another for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in my head before, and especially, after you left. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. This was me not dealing. It took Becca and Steve and Gabe and Dum Dum to help me get back on track. By then it had been months. I felt stupid for falling into the same trap, when you had your shit together. I wanted to reach out, but I figured you made your decision. That doesn’t mean I liked it, but I decided to focus on my company and my mental health. One of the things I learned is that I have abandonment issues, it paralyzed me. It paralyzes me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bucky, you know I struggle too. That’s why I follow a strict regimen; it's why I was always riding your ass about your meds and treatment. I’m scared I’m going to be swallowed whole sometimes too,” Sam admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you didn’t want to leave and I didn’t want you to leave. And you were scared of another episode and I was scared of not being good enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And we were not talking to one another about how we felt and what we needed,” Sam added. Bucky nodded. They sat there in silence, processing. Sam watched the fire and Bucky watched him. Finally, Sam looked at his watch. “So, we good? You all hashed out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I think so. Thanks for this,” Bucky said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you were right. We needed this, and I’m happy you're moving forward,” Sam said, standing. “Just promise me you’ll be safe out here. They have dating apps where you can actually go out and meet people. Talk to them instead of just paying for sex all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I talk to enough people, including my snitch of a sister. I like paying for sex. I get what I want with as little fuss as possible. This means you're going to cut off intel from Becca and Misty, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, if you stop showing up on Chapel Street at night. You know you can come in the day and meet some of our new group. They need someone to look up to. They get tired of Me, Clint, and Rhodey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, I can stop coming at night, and you could stop working late at night, and try some of those apps yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve tried them. I’m a little too old school, I think. The dudes are all weird, or married, or want a quick fuck.” Bucky eyed Sam like he was ridiculous. “I mean, I’m not going to act like I don’t do my thing, but it’s wild out there. Sometimes I just want a connection.”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, make a connection,” Bucky said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam sighed, “That’s easier said than done,” Sam frowned. He glanced up at Bucky just for a moment, and then looked away. Bucky found his wings in that moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me, I know, especially today, when red and green reminds me of Kwanzaa cake, Menorahs remind me of my first Hanukkah celebration, when cookies remind me of meeting Clint and Natasha, Chinese reminds me of old family recipes, and hugs remind me of people I don’t get to know anymore. I know how painful it can feel to try to connect. It’s scary as shit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam’s eyes closed. “Bucky, don’t do this,” Sam whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t like when I lied to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been way too long and we’ve been through too much,” Sam tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're one of the bravest men I know. I’m asking you to be brave with me. We can go to therapy,” Bucky suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll think about it,” Sam said, backing towards the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky sighed. He had let this happen before. He wouldn’t again. And then it hit him. He began to sing:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The snow's comin' down</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm watchin' it fall</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lots of people around</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby, please come home</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam stopped his retreat in shock. His eyes glistened. There was a reason the Howling Commandos were the Christmas karaoke champions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The church bells in town</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All ringing in song</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Full of happy sounds</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby, please come home</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How many nights did he serenade this man, or hold him close and sway to some melody. He loved him from the moment he saw him, touched him, and tasted him. There was no one else. There would never be anyone else. He could give a fuck about an app. He could give a fuck about his pride. Sam was his home. Christmas was about love and giving, and there was no one else he wanted to give his love to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They're singing Deck The Halls</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But it's not like Christmas at all</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I remember when you were here</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And all the fun we had last year</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hoped the tears meant Sam felt the same way. He didn’t have to hope too long. Sam wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. They poured years of yearning and need into one another. It lasted forever and an instant. It was both gratifying and infuriating. They were both relieved and terrified, but more than anything it was perfect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-o0o-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They couldn’t make it up the stairs. Not when Sam wore his fuck me outfit to the intervention. Bucky pulled the tee off in between kisses. They tumbled over to his couch. Sam ripped the hoodie Bucky was wearing off, but examined it for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this my hoodie?” Sam said as Bucky sucked in the spot that joined his shoulder to his neck. Sam moaned, “I’ve been looking for this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You found it,” Bucky said, pulling off his Army t-shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. He kicked them off reaching for Sam. He plunged his tongue into his mouth while his hands got inside the waistband of those sweats. He stroked the length of him, swallowing Sam’s moans. When Sam’s cock was threatening to burst the seam of his pants. Bucky reached over into a decorative box full of supplies and pulled out some lube. Sam’s brow quirked at that, but didn’t say anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Bucky put the lid back on the box, Sam protested, “Condom.” Bucky smirked. “You said it yourself, my intel is ironclad, and from what I hear yo ass been having a real good time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was safe,” Bucky grumbled, pulling out three condoms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam's eyes widened, “We’ll see when those test results come back.” Bucky fully undressed, but he was taking too long for Sam. “Come unwrap your gift,” he murmured with need. Bucky grabbed him and kissed him one more time, and then pushed him on the couch. He took the pants and briefs off with one tug. There was so much beautiful skin in front of Bucky he didn’t know what to taste first. He went with tradition and traced Sam’s tattoo with his tongue. He suckled and bit at his nipples. His hands couldn’t not touch his cock so he squeezed it gently.  Sam was too keyed up and Bucky wasn’t ready for him to come. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hot or Cold?” Bucky asked, biting at his jaw. Sam took his time thinking about it as Bucky licked into his skin and rolled his balls between his hands. “Cold,” he finally stammered, shivering when a metal finger rubbed at his asshole. His baby wanted it hard tonight. Bucky spread and lifted Sam’s legs. Bucky’s snickered when Sam’s knee popped. “You’re old, but I’m going to fuck the shit out of you anyway.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, Man,” Sam said. Bucky didn’t answer him because he was too excited staring at the delicious sight in front of him. He had to get a hold of himself. Nah, it was Christmas. He decided to just go with it. His tongue darted in and out of Sam’s tight ass. Sam wrapped his hand around his own dick, as Bucky ate him with fervor. Bucky only stopped when his own cock started aching for release, especially when Sam came with Bucky’s name on his lips.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, I love that baby. I’m going to make you feel so good,” Bucky cooed at him, the slick cold metal opening Sam up further. Bucky worked with precision, slowly adding digits, making sure he was good and relaxed. He gave Sam three cold hard fingers, recognizing the ache in his groin. He knew he was going to lose it once he got inside of him. “You’re going to feel me until New Year’s.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was able to control himself as Sam adjusted to his girth. When he bottomed out Sam's eyes were screwed tight. Bucky purred, “You can take it baby. You used to take my cock so good.” Sam glared up at him, breathing through the stretch. “Look at you already starting to get hard again. My baby wants to come on my cock. I’m going to give you what you've been missing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Sam said, but his hands moved from Bucky’s lower back to his ass. Sam loved to feel Bucky moving inside of him. “You going to fuck me or talk shit all night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Both,” Bucky said, pulling out of him and slamming back in. He did that three more times until he could jackhammer Sam like he had been wanting to since he took off his jacket. He long dicked him, pounding into him with a need that seemed like it would never abate. Long after Sam had come again, Bucky spilled inside him his hips pumping widely. He collapsed on the man in languid pleasure. He didn’t pull out, because he was going to have him again, at least once more. It ended up being three times more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fucked Sam halfway hanging off the couch, milking his dick as Sam rode him. They came together collapsing back into the cushions. They made out like two teenagers until Bucky’s need grew again. He flipped the man over and rolled into him with quick short thrust. His orgasm was just as quick. Sam fell asleep before Bucky had pulled out all the way. Bucky half carried the man upstairs to clean him up, so they could sleep comfortably.  Bucky woke up with Sam’s dick between his ass. He opened his sex drawer and tossed lube and a condom at Sam. Bucky tried not to cry as Sam made love to him, but it had been too long. Sam kissed his tears away and filled him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Mr. Barnes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wherever you find love it feels like Christmas.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky was watching Steve on the security feeds. Ever since he told Steve he was fired, he turned into the model employee. He came in early and left late. Actually, production was up 10% everywhere in the company. It was great, but he needed his best friend to scram. He came out of his office, leaning against the doorpost. “Steve, why don’t you go home?”</p><p>“I want to make sure Adya has everything she needs to hit the ground running when she gets here tomorrow.” Steve said, labeling files. </p><p>“Steve you have a week left, and if she doesn’t know something, I can show her. I had thirteen assistants before you.” Bucky said, blinking at him.</p><p>“I know, but-” Steve tried. His friend was still uncomfortable with Bucky being his patron. He tried to explain to Steve that he had lots of money. More money than he could spend in a lifetime. Steve’s award money was a pittance compared to what the Rogers gave Bucky and Becca. Steve was sharing food and toys with him when he didn’t have enough to eat himself. Sarah Rogers would get her allotted two food boxes and bring one to their family. Bucky knew the man would get over it when he actually started painting and doing art on his own terms, but he was still here helping the transition, and currently, cock-blocking.</p><p>Bucky glanced at his watch. It was 5:50pm. “Bye,” Bucky said, going back into his office.</p><p>“Hey you want to grab a bite. Peg’s in London. Ma is at her physical therapist,” Steve said, organizing his desk and reaching for a coat.</p><p>“No, I have an appointment I need to get to myself, let’s get a slice of pie later in the week. I’ll lock up,” Bucky said.</p><p>“Okay,” Steve said, grabbing his stuff.</p><p>Bucky waited a few minutes, and then turned on his security feeds for the bottom floor. He watched Steve exit the elevator and walk out of the lobby. Bucky grabbed his phone typing into the screen. Fifteen Minutes later the elevator to the executive suite was opening and Sam was at Kira’s desk. Bucky stood there waiting for him. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed him softly on the lips.</p><p>“How was your trip?” Bucky asked, fixing the dimple in Sam’s tie. Of course, they would get back together one day before Sam flew to Atlantic City with his friends. Sam drunk sexting him at 2 am was pretty fun though.</p><p>Sam thought about it. “Fun,” Sam replied.</p><p>“I bet. What happens in Atlantic City stays in Atlantic City?” Bucky smirked.</p><p>“Something like that.” Sam smiled. “Did you miss me?”</p><p>“Yes,” Bucky said, kissing him again. “I’ve been busy though, with the restructuring. So, what do you think?” Bucky said, gesturing around his empire.</p><p>“It’s beautiful, baby. I’m impressed. Do I get the grand tour?” Sam asked. Bucky smiled, happy to show off his life’s work to the most important person in his life. Bucky took him on a tour of the building with its exposed brick and giant factory windows. There was a lot of reclaimed wood, metal, and repurposed furniture mixed in with leather and suede. It was industrial luxe. </p><p>Bucky showed him the section that was being renovated for the day care. The bright colors enclosed in this room were a far cry from the grays, browns, and copper of the rest of the building. Bucky told him affordable daycare was Becca’s idea. Sam could hear the pride in his voice. He showed him the warehouse, accounting and logistics, the break room, and finally the executive suite. “And this is Steve’s desk for another week. I’ll have to take you by his new art studio, it has great light and a rooftop garden. We're going to house a small gallery, the charity and grant offices in the same building, but here is my office,” Bucky said, sweeping through the double doors.</p><p>Sam walked into a room with giant windows, towering bookcases, and a massive desk. He had a couch and a wet bar off to the side, and a full bath and closet, which Sam was jealous of. “It’s great, Buck, I’m so proud of you,” Sam said, kissing him. Bucky smiled against his lips. </p><p>“Wow, look at this view,” Sam said, walking around Bucky’s desk and looking out at the skyline and the Hudson. Bucky came and wrapped his arms around Sam kissing his neck. Sam stood there happy in Bucky’s arms. He felt at peace until heat flooded his stomach. Bucky had a semi. Christmas night evaded his thoughts. When Bucky started to grind against him, Sam could only think of the press of Bucky’s lengthening cock.</p><p>“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this?” Bucky whispered in Sam’s ear. Bucky pulled Sam tight against him and unbuckled his pants.</p><p>“Bucky someone could see,” Sam moaned as Bucky fisted him. It was dusk in January, it would be dark in minutes. The man reached back and hit a button on a screen and the lights went out.</p><p>Bucky pulled Sam over to the desk and bent him over it. Sam was about to step out of his pants, but Bucky commanded, “Leave them on.”</p><p>“Expect the dry-cleaning bill,” Sam muttered.</p><p>Sam could hear Bucky rumbling around in a desk drawer while his dick was wedged into Sam’s ass crack.</p><p>“Hot or cold?” Bucky asked.</p><p>“Hot,” Sam answered. Bucky’s finger breached him slowly. He was so tight. It took some time to open Sam enough for his already drooling cock. After taking three fingers, Bucky rolled into Sam slowly. He used one hand to get him off and another keep him in place. He took his sweet time until Sam was spilling over his fist. He plastered Sam to the desk delivering short gentle strokes. He tried to make it last longer, but the wise ass beneath him called him Mr. Barnes, and Bucky lost it. He pumped his way through his orgasm, hoping he hadn’t made Sam a complete mess. He had. </p><p>Later that night he walked into Sam’s bedroom in some sparkly booty shorts Bucky had dug out of storage. He found himself suspended in the air getting long-dicked. Bucky couldn’t sit down the next day.</p><p>-o0o-</p><p>Sam couldn’t believe Bucky had talked him into this. Sam was nervous. They were officially coming out of the closet. Four months of therapy, and they felt like they were in a good place to tell their family and friends they were back together. Sam wanted to do it in sections, but Bucky wanted to get it out of the way. He had a plan to use his Christmas gift to bribe everyone with booze, beer, baseball, and barbecue. He actually had a chef flown in from Decatur, Alabama.</p><p>Sam pulled up to the stadium with M’Baku and Claire in the backseat. Mike, Sarah, Skai, and his parents were following them. “Where’d you say you got these tickets from?” Bak asked when Sam pulled into the private parking garage. </p><p>“They were a gift,” Sam muttered. </p><p>“From who? Your name is on this parking space.”</p><p> “You know I serve on several boards.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you usually don’t take the perks.”</p><p>“I just wanted to get together with my family and friends,” Sam dodged, getting out of the car.</p><p>Sam waited for everyone to gather before taking them to the private elevator. Skai was always lagging behind now, taking pictures for the gram. She had them all doing some dance on Christmas Eve on TikTok. “Where’d you get these tickets?” Sarah asked when they walked onto the club floor. Sam had to admit this shit was ridiculous. There were bars and lounges and giant screens everywhere. He had sighted three celebrities and one notorious billionaire. Sam flashed his badge at security, and they let his family in.</p><p>“Welcome, Mr. Wilson,” The man said, his demeanor completely changing.</p><p>“Guys, let’s just enjoy ourselves as a family,” Sam tried again walking down the corridor to the skyboxes</p><p>“Long as there is free alcohol. I’m game,” Mike said, peering into yet another bar area.</p><p>“This is so nice, Baby,” Ms. Darlene said.</p><p>“Yeah, it is,” Claire remarked.</p><p>“I’m just glad Satchel Paige, Oscar Charleston, and Josh Gibson will finally be getting their due,” Paul Wilson said. His dad was a history buff, and knew everything about the Negro Leagues thanks to Sam’s grandfather. </p><p>“I hope so, Pop,” Sam said, stopping outside the entrance to Bucky’s skybox. He breathed, “So we are going to be sharing with other people, and I need you guys to keep an open mind.”</p><p>“To watch a ball game?” Paul said, his eyes narrowing. He and Darlene exchanged looks.</p><p>“Mm hmm. Just open the door,” Sarah said. Claire smirked. Sam eyed his sister and friend, but opened the door.</p><p>Bucky and company were inside already snacking and enjoying beers and cocktails, waiting for the game to start, and the BBQ to be ready. Everyone turned when Sam and his family walked in. Misty and Sarah waved. “Hey little, sister,” Sarah said to Becca. </p><p>“Hey Sar,” Becca beamed back.</p><p>Bucky hopped up out of his stool at the Bar. “I thought you were going to text me,” Bucky sang moving towards him.</p><p>“I forgot,” Sam said, smiling at everyone who was sitting. His eyebrows crept up spying Peggy in Steve’s lap. <em> Okay, Rogers! </em> He glanced at his family, and M’Baku was handing Mike twenty dollars.</p><p>“Welcome, please come in,” Bucky said to Sam’s family. “I know you guys are wondering what’s going on.”</p><p>“No Buck, I actually think it’s pretty obvious,” Steve said. Snickers filled the room. </p><p>“Well, okay, we wanted you to know that we didn’t jump right back into this,” Sam said.</p><p>“Is this going to take long, cause, I’m hungry? And them ribs smell real good,” Paul interjected.</p><p>“Pop?” Sam exclaimed.</p><p>“Who didn’t see this coming?” Paul said. </p><p>“From a mile away,” Winifred chimed, sipping on her martini. </p><p>“Took longer than I expected though,” Sarah Rogers chimed. She was putting on weight again, and had a sparkling water in her hand.</p><p>“Wasn’t it a long time?” Darlene agreed, taking a seat in a leather recliner. Sam was shocked. Sarah laughed at her brother. He actually thought he was slick.</p><p>“Fool, you left on Christmas night at 6pm with your phone blowing up and didn’t come back to get your car until 24 hours later, cheesing. If you hadn’t texted Mike, Daddy was going to turn on the lo jack.”</p><p>“I sure was, out there gallivanting in my truck,” Paul chastised, going to sit with his wife.</p><p>“I guess no one gives a shit we're back together,” Bucky said to Sam, kissing him on the cheek. He turned to their family and friends. “Let’s eat.” The door to the skybox clicked closed. Skai stood in the door, confused by all the people for a moment until she saw Sam. She glanced at Bucky and her eyes popped open.</p><p>“Uncle Bucky?” she asked, smiling.</p><p>“Yeah, kiddo,” Buck said, smiling back.</p><p>“You’re back together?” Skai asked Sam.</p><p>“Yes,” Sam said, his arm going around Bucky’s waist.</p><p>“It’s about time. I’m going to call Jai,” She said, flopping into one of the leather chairs.</p><p>-o0o-</p><p>It was Christmas Eve, it had been a year since Bucky had been Scrooged. Sam sat in the front row grinning as Bucky serenaded him with “All I Want For Christmas Is You”. Steve and the Commandos were doing an admirable job as background singers/dancers. Surprisingly, Junior took over the second verse. It was pretty horrible and romantic when he stood in front of Becca singing his off-key heart out. Sam looked at Bucky who had obviously signed off. Becca turned as red as her sweater, while Tara and Angie hooted, egging them on. </p><p>Juniper got a kiss and a date for his talents. Bucky got to take Sam a part with his mouth on his cock and a finger shoved up his ass. Sam didn’t last long. They were in Luke’s storage room. The excitement of being caught had Sam coming on Bucky’s tongue before this year’s karaoke champions were named. Between Bucky’s Mariah Carey and Misty and Peggy’s duet. The commandos had secured free drinks on Fridays for next year.</p><p>-o0o-</p><p>Everyone was back in the private hospital waiting room. Steve and Becca were pacing. Paul was praying. Half the room was still hung-over from last night’s revelry. Paul had to cancel his Christmas Sermon to be here for his boy.  </p><p>“It’s early isn’t it?” Dugan asked, looking around the room. Everyone seemed impatient to hear something, any information.</p><p>“Not that early,” Mike said. His eyes were closed trying to stay calm. </p><p>“We’ll be fine,” Darlene said, patting Mike’s hand. “We have an expert in that room, and of course, the Lord.”</p><p>“Amen,” Misty said, laying her head on Danny's shoulder. </p><p>Bucky walked into the room with tears in his eyes. “Mike, Sarah needs you. She’s okay. Everything’s...” He paused, a grin splitting open his face. “Ma, Mom,” Bucky called to Winifred and Darlene. “You want to meet your new granddaughters?” He said, laughing. Steve clapped him on the back. Dugan broke out the cigars. </p><p>“Daughters?” Skai asked the questions everyone was thinking- two girls. Janae smiled. They were going to have her boss wrapped around their finger. Hell, they probably already did.</p><p>“What’s their name, Buck?”  Becca said, pulling him into a hug and crying. Junior handed her some tissue.</p><p>“Jamira and Samira Barnes-Wilson, or, what I will be calling them, Jami and Sami,” Bucky said, wiping a tear. </p><p>“I like it,” Jai commented.</p><p>“It continues the tradition,” Kai agreed.</p><p>“Well, it’s started,” Clint said. “Gabe, Benita you’re up next.”</p><p>“Why are we up next? If you ask me, it should be Steve and Peggy.”</p><p>“We just got married!” Peggy said, aghast. “How long has Betty and Dugan been together? We should have had nieces and nephews to spoil ages ago.” She pointed out, fixing the tie on the giant stuffed bunny she and Steve had brought. The room burst into debate. It was filled with toys, flowers, balloons, and so much love.</p><p>Bucky shook his head at his crazy friends and family, and led the excited women down the hall to the baby window. He left them there and stepped into the quiet room. Sam beamed up at him, as Bucky placed a kiss on his brow. He picked up a wiggling yellow bundle from Sam’s left arm to match the green one in the right. They stood walking over to the window, proudly showing off their daughters. Winifred and Darlene cooed at the twin girls with their dark hair and gray eyes. Sam was crying again as Jami clung to his finger, and Sami sneezed at her grandmothers. Bucky pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Babe.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I love every version of a Christmas Carol- every! Hope you enjoyed it, and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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